Thursday, May 7, 2009

Today, I witnessed a miracle

It was an accident of cataclysmic proportions. I hear the word "shootdiddledeedo!" spoken sharply from the next room. I ask, in my usual questioning fashion: "What happened?"

Apparently, "Oh shizzle!" happened.

I mobilized. Time to assess. Surely, fingers have been cut, hands scaleded, hair lost. Worse.

A bowl of molten chocolate chips, destined for the top of Colin's birthday Rice Krispy treats has fallen from Christine's hands to the floor. More correctly, the chocolate of doom had fallen onto to the newish carpet.

Ordinarily, I'd have freaked out, but I knew this was a lost cause. There was no reason to get mad since there was no possible way that anger would be able to fix my problem.

Lucid, I decide that the first course of action is to cool the molten chocolate to keep it from soaking into the carpet. Hmm... ice cubes? Too wet. What else? Canned air...inverted!

Dashing upstairs to the office, I came up short. There was no canned air upstairs. To the garage. Sweet success! Canned air. I dash back to the carpet where the situation was unchanged.

I invert the can. Spray. Spray more. We have frost. Is the chocolate frozen through? Spray more. That's about enough, so spray just a bit more.

Now, chip the frozen chocolate from the floor. My thumb is burning from excitement. Man, my thumb has never burned from excitement like this before. The tip of my thumb is yellowing, hard and cold to the touch. I might have overdone the canned air thing. The chocolate, carpet floorboards and earth below the house are now solidly frozen.

I consider this level of frozenness perfect working conditions. My thumb makes an occasional trip into my mouth to avert freezing and I continue my work. Finally all of the chocolate has been chipped away and I'm left with...a big brown stain. Ugh.

After a breather, I regain my resolve. I've secured carpet cleaner from under the sink. Already the lost cause, I apply the cleaner and scrub. I stop scrubbing to soothe a cramp in my arm and scrub some more. I blot and wipe and spray and blot and scrub and wipe and blot. After all is done and very little is said that can be heard by those who don't have their ear to my mouth, I have clean carpet. It looks like it never happened.

Had someone told me I'd clean 1/4 cup of melted chocolate out of the carpet with no apparent ill effects other than frostbite, I'd have declared them mad.