from the days in the waves

July 26, 2017

This morning I learned that I do not know how to open a can of freezer rolls.

At thirty three years of age I stood alone in my kitchen and gradually lost my shit over the instructions. Press spoon against seam? What spoon? Any spoon? What seam?

I considered waking my husband up to consult him. I considered texting a friend. I considered looking it up on the internet. Then I decided that I am a strong independent grown ass adult with a mind of adequately enquiring bent, and I could probably figure it out. Apparently scores of other humans have been managing this just fine for years, I have not actually encountered any stories of anyone else having difficulty with this task, or of anybody losing an eye to a particularly explosive spoon/seam press.

So I got a spoon, not exactly any spoon, it was selected specifically for its sturdiness, and began pressing it against the seam. After a few attempts at what were clearly the wrong angles, (why is there not a picture or diagram or something), there was an utterly satisfying pop and a bunch of pillsbury dough poofed out of the can. Seldom I am sure has victory ever been so sweet.

Because, pastries.


Muwaha. The days between now and my weekly Saturday morning butterhorn are looking a lot shorter all of a sudden.



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