I'll set the scene: me in the kitchen. Already the setting is ominous.
I was trying to decide which pasta to make for Petey's dinner.
I had two half boxes of "long" - linguine and fettuccine - along with a couple others to contemplate. Halfway through the decision making process I switched to ravioli so I "carefully" gathered up the two "long" boxes and moved toward to pantry.
Do you see it coming? Did I set up the foreshadowing good enough for you?
The long boxes were the first to make the pantry journey and I neglected to pay attention to the open ends.
You guessed it! The pasta went flying. I wasn't even moving fast but those suckers launched themselves into the air and then hit the floor runnin'.
Fortunately, I'd just mopped the floor so I scooped them up in a flash, comingled them into a pot of boiling water and dinner was served!
Just kidding. Give me some credit. I wasn't raised by wolves.
The ravioli was delicious, btw.
