GERONIMO!!

Late one night I had a soda explode in my face.

Ungainly is a polite expression, but an honest description of me would include that in addition to gawky, clumsy... well, I tend to drop things.

Easily.

And frequently.

So it wasn't entirely unexpected that the can slipped easily from my grip.

But, like the true solider I am, I immediately threw myself on top of the grenade (sidebar: did you know the word 'grenade' is derived from the French word for 'pomegranate'? Does that make about as much sense as anything French does? Pomegranate?!) to absorb the detonation.

Well, actually, I picked up the foaming, spitting and hissing can, resulting in sticky, sweet fizzy soda flowing all over my hands, my arms, my legs AND getting into my hair.

I threw it into the kitchen sink, and then (and only then) thought (finally) of the concept of COVERING it with a towel to lessen the damage.

And then spent probably twenty wiping down the fridge, the counters, the cabinets, the dishwasher, the dog, the floor, the ceiling, the oranges in a nice decorative bowl, the nice decorative bowl, and my face. Everything I was wearing was consigned to the washing machine - a hot shower was essential to get my hair separated again...


But my skin was glowing for the next two days.

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