Tom and I bought a blender for ourselves for Christmas. Tom wasn’t as keen on the blender idea as I was. But don’t get me wrong, the blender still counts as a gift in the Tom column. That box is checked.
|Our new blender: http://amzn.to/2ioeDv1|
I didn’t pick out one of the really really fancy blenders. We aren’t good enough chefs to warrant a blender that costs as much as an artificial leg. But our blender is good enough to have a smoothie setting that makes your cheeks vibrate when it gets going. The little wheel spins like a helicopter blade. The whole blender might go airborne if you don’t clamp your hands around the chassis.
As soon as the new blender arrived on the scene, I got busy with it. Nothing has been safe from categoric pulverization. Early on, I had a broccoli moment. We had a lot of broccoli. I jammed a bunch into the blender and it was go time. Except not much happened.
The little wheel was spinning around like a champ but not connecting. It was a classic engineering dilemma. I needed to smoosh the broccoli down further. I took the lid off the blender and brandished the included smooshing tool. I’m a very good smoosher, it turns out. I pummeled so hard I went right through the broccoli and got the smoosher caught up in the blade.
There came a horrific squeal and a cosmic broccoli explosion. I was all fresh faced and happy-go-lucky one second, and the next second I had so much broccoli plastered to my glasses I couldn’t see anything. I had to change my shirt and I spent ten minutes combing green chunks out of my hair.
|Broccoli on the ceiling|
The next day, I went to get a haircut and had a little panic attack. If the stylist washer girl found a remnant chunk of broccoli in my hair, how would I pass this off nonchalantly?
Darcey said to just proclaim that half smashed florets of broccoli are a new secret shiny hair beauty trick.
I think I might get out of the broccoli smoothie business. Romaine lettuce holds some promise. It would seem to have a shorter propulsion trajectory.