Friday, October 29, 2010

In Haste: Parents

Cooking with garlic is apparently as dangerous as onion cutting.*  The kitchen is a playground of dangers abounding from every orifice.  The Danger Zone.

There I am, sprinkling some garlic over my pot o' pasta.  I claim here that it was the garlic that started to make my nose run.  I notice said dripping from the nose outlet, and humbly attempt to swipe away the liquidified snot... but a problem emerges!  Somewhere in the action of hand swipe, my pinky finger lodges itself in the nose cavity itself.  May it be known, this was never my intention!

With my pinky firmly supplanted up my nose, a thought creeps forward; an ever-so dastardly thought!

How far can I go? 

With my nose in the condition it was in (running like water park), there was no difficulty in sliding my pinky further up the great unexcavated cavern.  Up it went.  Further and further.

Before I know it, my pinky is lodged farther than I could ever imagine it could go?  Weren't there preventative measures the body had for these sorts of things?!  How could this happen?  Worse yet was knowing that there was more acreage open to travel.  I was cognizant that my pinky had gone beyond the point of 'nose-ness'.  We were past the mountains of madness.

Instinctively, perhaps salvifically, my hand recoiled, and my baby finger once again felt the sweet rush of open air flood its surface.

It was a remarkable adventure, but a worry remains.  I could have kept going.  Who knows how deep were the reaches?  And the darkest question of all, 'Could I have made contact with my own brains?'  What paradoxes would that cause?  Oh Lord!  That despicable truth is so tantalizing to uncover!  What dreams may come!

This experience was quite similar to that of watching Bob Balaban's 1989 film "Parents".  Both introduced the same high levels of intrigue, fear, and disgust.

*For previous encounters of kitchen danger, click here.

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