Yes, I am an idiot (OK, so that’s hardly news, I know, but hey, you take what you can get in this life). I decided to demonstrate this fact by attempting to give myself third degree burns last night. Put chicken in oven to defrost (no, that’s not the stupid bit, our oven has a defrosty feature thing), think ‘Hmm, that chicken’s going to drip as it thaws, better put something underneath it to catch the chickeny meltwater... Oh look, that baking tray will do nicely.’ That baking dray did indeed do nicely. It did nicely in the top oven for quarter of an hour at two hundred and twenty degrees not five minutes earlier.
I love the way it takes about three seconds for the human body to go from ‘this heavy metal baking tray feels a bit tingly’ to ‘AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!’ Just enough time to really get the flesh searing. I may have sworn a little bit.
Spent the rest of the night with my right hand in a jug full of really, really cold water (which She Who Must Minister To Her Stupid Husband When He Tries To Maim Himself kept dutifully topped up with ice cubes), self-anaesthetising with alcohol and foul-languaged mutterings.
All in all - a top night.