So there I am, mixing the batter for waffles for our house-famous White Chocolate Chip Waffles, when suddenly there is this little click, and I am holding a whisk that is in two pieces. The top third of the handle. And the bottom two thirds plus whisk. And as I look at it with this vague thought that perhaps if I stare at it the pieces will magically merge back together, I begin to stir the batter again. A piece from the handle drops onto the counter. I look at the white batter. The white chocolate chips. And the white shard of plastic on the counter, and I think:
How lucky do I feel?
(On the plus side, this means I can get that teak and rosewood whisk with titanium blades that I've had my eye on, in the Williams-Sonoma catalog.)
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