domestic goddess and me??!! You HAVE to be kidding! ;)

So the brilliantly creative and funny and recently discovered (my loss) Maid In Malaysia tagged me tell you about my domestic...errr... horrors! There is indeed no other word that can describe those situations which are a very literal as well as metaphorical black marks on this whole womanhood business! Least in my case it's too literal! ;)


The first one is really old... when i was reallly young! Yeah weird paradox! :p I used to spend my summer vacations at my mausi and mama's place in Kolhapur. I loved spending time with my cousin who is just 15 days elder to me. I was quite tall then. (No. I didnt shrink! Duh! but kinda stopped growing any taller and stayed at measly 5'6!). So, one day my mausi wanted to removed a packet of oil from the loft. Me, thinking, I am as tall as the next guy on stilts, said "Oh! Don't bother with chair and all, I can take it down with my... errr bare hands and toes arched!"


I cannot believe I actually did what I did next. I couldn't reach with my hand stretched (what with my haath not being kanoon ke) and toes arched. So I should have just given up and got a chair. Right? Right? Nooo, Wrong! I decided to jump and pull it off the loft! Yup my hand touched it, and my fingers closed in on the edge and before my feet touched the ground, the packet of oil had hit the ground AND split open! I had oil on my cousins smartest dress (we used to exchange clothes!) and oil all over the floor. I don't even remember by mausi's reaction. I am sure she would have whacked my sister or given least a looong lecture, but since it was me, we just got down to cleaning the floor. Rather she did, me thinks! Thats when I came to know that sprinkling lotsa aata on oil is the best and easiest way to clean it!


Though I do wish I had learnt this lesson in theory.


Cut to recent past... year 2005. Married for almost a year and still pretty much clueless and learning ropes in the kitchen. We had just shifted to this house we are currently living in. A pal had come to stay with us from Chennai. We didn't have a fridge and Mumbai common sense said you need to boil the dal or any other khaana well once, to let it survive to the leftovers stage! So, I put the kadhai with dal on gas and came and sat outside. We were almost set to sleep. Tired after long day of shifting and setting up stuff, we all slept off. M n me in the bedroom and friend in the hall. We slept like logs apparently because we woke up to a kadhaai with what used to be dal clinging to its edges yucky smelling and charred beyond recognition! The gas miraculously was still burning.


Buddy S, conveniently blamed us saying she had a cold and her nose was blocked no thanks to that. The funny thing is that the odour of burnt dal took like a week to completely go away inspite of brilliant ventilation of the ghar! We could smell it the moment we entered the house after day's work, but for life us we don't know how we slept through it WHILE it was burning to cinders! :P


This got repeated once again! This time it was milk left to boil. M was traveling and I just went off to sleep forgetting about it. Though it was lot more dangerous because the flame had gone off but the gas was leaking. Thank god I didn't have any switches to turn on as soon as I woke up. M keeps talking about how he could have returned to a blown up home! Brrrr!


What happened to the bartans you ask?! Well the kadhai got back to its original colour with serious scrubbing ministrations for a week least and the doodh ka pateela had to be thrown because it's bottom gave away and the colour won't get better either. The burnt taste just refused to go!


As MinM says it's domestic horrors in 80 clicks! So time to tag fellow bloggers! Suma, Swati, Puja, JLT, Anu, Monika, Avanti, Homecooked (kitchen goddess, do you have any?) and Deepa. Tell us ladies! :D


Have a great weekend you all! :)