In the Name of Fried Okra

     We don't have a deep fryer.  So, anytime we need to fry something, we fill a pan up with oil and do it the old fashioned way.  Rather than throwing out large amounts of oil each time, I keep a jar that is used specifically for recycling the oil.  Two nights ago I fried up some okra.  At 11:30 pm I remembered I still needed to pour the left over oil back into the jar.  I do so, in the sink but missed quite a bit, causing it to run down the side of the jar.  I proceeded to take a paper towel and wipe the sides of the jar when suddenly the oily slippery mess flew off the counter and splattered all over the kitchen floor.  We're talking about 12 ounces of vegetable oil.  Jackson likes to point out that I chose the 3 INCH slab of counter space beside the sink, at the end of the counter, rather than the large surface space anywhere else in the kitchen.  I choose to ignore his point.
      Anyway, it's late, it's a huge mess, I'm pregnant and emotional, and instantly my eyes well up with tears.  Jackson sees the severity of the situation (his wife is about to move full force ahead into an emotional breakdown) and jumps into action.  So, great husband that he is, he grabs a big roll of paper towels and starts throwing down the sheets to soak up the oil.  As I stood there, appalled that I could do such a thing as spill oil all over the place, I continued to view the situation as if I had just spilled toxic waste all over our home.  Jackson sent me out of the kitchen to google a solution that would remove the toxic waste before the situation turned fatal.  His original idea of baking soda turned out to be correct.  After soaking up as much as possible we emptied the box of baking soda all over our kitchen floor and left it there to absorb the oil overnight.
     Jackson did a marvelous job of bringing humor into the situation and not letting me have a pity party.  In fact, in no time I was laughing hysterically for 15 minutes straight.  All because of this picture:

I looked at this picture on my camera and burst into laughter because it looks like a midget has entered our kitchen.  Political correctness aside, I thought it was hilarious.  My husband shrunk like 2 feet.  Maybe it was funny because it was midnight, or maybe it was funny because I needed an excuse to laugh.  Whatever it was, it worked.  Thanks Jackson for providing the entertainment.  

    I especially like this picture because if you were to look at it closely you would see that my belly has attracted thread lint from an all day sewing project, tomato sauce stains from when I dropped my piece of pizza and it tumbled down my belly, and ketchup splatters from when the ketchup bottle squirted me as I tried to get the last drop out.  Me thinks the belly is beginning to get in the way.  

    And don't worry, the very next morning I used a broom and removed the rest of the toxic waste from our kitchen.  No fatalities here.