Eeeeek!

You may recall, this week I made mention of me being semi-manly.  To be honest, I am quite glad I didn't go full-on manly, because I am quite sure there are hordes some of you that would refer to said-post and rub my face in it.

I have mentioned before that one of my 0dd phobias, is milk.  Not that I don't like it, I love drinking it hot or cold, cooking with it... However, as soon as my skin comes into contact with it, then all bets are off.  It might as well be Ebola-laced monkey phlegm.

People think is hil-bloody-arious at how I react to it.  A splash on the back of my hand, even a drop on my finger from making a cuppa will send me straight to the sink scrubbing my hand.  I've even been threatened with the bloody stuff.

I hate it.

So today, being the good housewife that I am, when Kellie left for work at 8am, I nipped into town, grabbed some shopping and came home - back by 8.45am, yes please thank you very much.  In the kitchen, I'm putting the shopping away, and the large four pint bottle of milk was next.  I reached, I touch, it slipped, and fell three feet to the floor.

Well, holy crap on a crutch, it exploded. The floor - obviously, the kitchen doors on all three sides of the kitchen, the cat, but worse of all... ME.

I think I might have made some sort of strangled screamy-type-noise too...

From my feet up to my man-boobs, I was showered in the stuff.  I froze in a sort of "OhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGod" kind of way not sure what to do first.

So I stripped.  Right there, in the kitchen.  My socks, my jeans, my boxers, my tee shirt - all soaked through to THE SKIN. I didn't care the neighbours could have seen over the fence into the window.  I didn't care that anyone passing the front could have peered in.  It needed to come off.

Arwen, you may recall, also got hit in the blast.  She, however, was happily licking the milk off her fur and the floor.

I grabbed a towel and ran straight up to the bathroom, and into the shower.  Yes, I left the milk all over the kitchen.  No, I DO NOT CARE I left it.  I had to scrub.  In the shower, I scrubbed from top to toe - my skin is still a little red - but I needed to remove all trace of the stuff.

When I came back down, the carnage was impressive, but now clean, it was just a case of wipe the cupboards, mop the floor, wipe the cat and play CSI Basildonia.

The bottle, it would seem, failed on two points - first, the seal and lid blew off, and second, a seam on the side of the bottle ruptured.  Not bad at all really.

Arwen is currently flopped out on the sofa with a rather fat tummy. I need a coffee but need to get some milk... Maybe I'll just have it black.