Stupid things I do sometimes

I like red. I don't wear it much, I didn't have it much in my life, but when we bought our condo, I decided I was going to have a red kitchen. This means buying red kitchen items since I haven't gotten around to painting it red yet. I bought this (one big one -- not two big ones -- I couldn't find a picture of a singular big one -- hence the usage of "this" and not "these" (that's for my momma)). I also bought some other items in this line. I have quite a few red items now. I'm red and I'm fancy.

So last night I was making chili. I thought, wow, perfect time to use my red casserole pot thing that's been sitting in the corner for a couple of months now. I heated up the pot on the burner while I cut up my onions. Then I started thinking...was it that I couldn't use the pot in the oven or the burner? OH MY GOD. It's the burner! I took it off the burner, turned it over, looked at the bottom (which was now a toasty brown color) and read that you should only use it in the oven and microwave. Oops. I quickly put it off to the side where it quickly made a loud cracking noise and did just that -- cracked. Into three pieces.

Now this is where things get interesting. I'm not a dumb person. In fact, I often call myself a genius (and I am, I am!). I'm just not "there" sometimes, and I end up doing really dumb things.

Dumb thing #10,388,677: I looked at the cracked pot and I thought to myself, I wonder how hot the pot would have to be before it would crack?

Yes, that's me. Conducting science experiments in my kitchen, with my own flesh.

I reached over and touched the side. Nothing. Felt cool. I reached inside and touched the bottom of the pot. For the first 2 seconds, I felt nothing -- it still felt cool. Then, suddenly, my poor finger tips were on fire (not literally). Instead of putting them under cold water right away, I looked at them. Yup, that's me again. Then I put them under cold water.

My husband came home, and I was in a bad mood at this point because I killed my pot and my fingers and I realized I didn't have anymore ground red chile. I looked at him and told him not to touch the pot because it's HOT. HOT. He asked what happened. I told him I'd rather not talk about it and to leave me alone. He insisted on knowing. I said I apparently used it in a manner I wasn't supposed to, and to leave me alone.

Us geniuses like to wallow in our glory.