Thursday, September 19, 2013

Between a Rock and a Hard Place

I was washing the dishes last night from dinner (you know, the many that don't fit in the dishwasher each day - sometimes I wish we had an industrial-sized monster from a school cafeteria kitchen) and got to my stainless steel pan.

Let me take a moment to digress about stainless steel cookware.  I know they are best and won't leech harmful chemicals into our food like that naughty Teflon is reported to do (I admit I have never really researched this matter), but by golly, Teflon washes like a dream, and stainless steel like a certified nightmare.  And the worst offender to clean off is eggs.  Which is what I was cleaning off last night.  With as much elbow grease as my puny little arms could provide.

So - back to the point of this post, if you can call it that.  I was scrubbing my little heart out when I looked into the hollow handle of the pan.  And I saw something inside.  Upon further inspection, and verification from nearby family members, I determined it was a rock.  Inside the handle of my skillet.  After some poking and pushing, my husband managed to dislodge it into the soapy water.

How, I ask you, did a rock get into my skillet handle?  The answer is that I have no idea, although I have a few good guesses as to who might have been involved.  But seriously!  A rock in the handle of a pan?  When was there opportunity?  What was the motivation?  How long has it been in there?

Many questions.  Few answers.

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