The Day of Spilling

The last 24 hours have been about spilling things.  I don't know what's going on, but it started last night when I picked up my wife's lemongrass candle in the kitchen, and promptly spilled wax on myself, the kitchen counter, various jars and containers of nuts and things, the knife block, and the paper towel dispenser.  She was laughing when she came upstairs because it just wasn't worth my time so late in the evening.  It continued into today when I spilled a plastic container of rice, which landed upside down and sprayed rice all over the kitchen floor.  I cleaned it up.  Picked it up.  And the top flew off again, spraying considerably more rice everywhere.  So I got a towel, cleaned it up.  But every time I took the towel to the rice to pick it up and put it in the sink, small pieces of rice flew out of the towel and all over.  I took special care to rinse the towel and look for rice, and every time it seemed perfectly clean, only to shoot little bits of rice all over the floor when I bent down to clean up the mess.  When I was done, I put the container in the sink and pushed the lid back on, and the bits of rice on the corners of the lid shot across the kitchen, tens of feet in cases.  If I could harness that energy, apparently I could power small nations.

And then, like an idiot, I made chili for chili/cheese hot dogs (I know - a peculiar dinner, but we've been experimenting lately, and it can't all be fish).  I spilled semi-chili water between the stove and the counter.  Chili shot out onto the back of the stove, the wall, and the tea pot (at least that was easy to clean).  And chili crawled out of the pan and onto anything within twelve feet.

I'm hoping it's just a phase.