Today, Zelma was really cranky, and I finally decided to just put her in her swing (my friend Nataliya loaned us a swing and it is swanky!) and I decided I would just let her swing a little and I would bake a cake. Or, rather, I would make a no-bake vegan cheesecake, because I can’t eat dairy anymore.
I took this giant jar of honey down from the shelf, and it slipped from my hand and crashed into this beer glass full of water that I had sitting on the counter, breaking the glass into a million pieces. Just then, Zelma screamed a scream to wake the dead! I thought for sure a shard of glass had entered her somewhere. I ran over to the swing, and she had screamed so loud that she ran out of breath and was gasping- but, of course, I thought for sure there was glass in her lungs and that was why she couldn’t breathe. I didn’t dare pick her up for fear I would shove some glass directly into her heart or something.
She finally caught her breath. I checked her over for glass. I looked for blood. No blood. She was fine.
I guess she just screamed from the noise.
The funny thing is, if you look at where she was and where I broke the glass, there was no way anything would have gotten to her. There was too much in between us.
Now I’m having a margarita. No worries. Phew.