When he came back into the house, he informed me that he had graciously thrown away my half-full bottle of San Pellegrino (Mineral water) I'd left in the car because it was frozen.
"But that was my cold drink for today," I protested.
"It's frozen. It will burst," he explained patiently.
"It's not full. It will thaw when I take it into the meeting."
"It will burst," he persisted. But bravely went dumpster-diving to retrieve my precious frozen bottle. (Yeah. He's a keeper.)
I race to the kitchen, put on a skillet with a bit of oil to fry an egg. I'm making my own breakfast burrito this morning since Mickey D's is the opposite direction from my meeting. Skillet heating, I head to the computer to print a report necessary for the meeting.
He comes back, "The kitchen is full of smoke."
Oh! I race back to the kitchen. He had pulled the skillet off the burner. I toss it in the sink. I grab a different skillet to try again. Pour a bit of oil, dash back to the computer.
"Your skillet is on high," he returns.
Dash back to the stove. Turn the burner down, add an egg. Back to the computer. More reports. I remote start the car.
Hubby exits for work.
Still more reports. Run back to the kitchen. The skillet is off the burner, the egg still raw on top. I flip the egg, put the skillet back on the burner, muttering only slightly, wondering who has removed the skillet. Did he have time to do that before he left?
Teresa comes in, "I loosened the egg for you. I didn't want it to overcook."
"Thanks," I respond, completely insincerely, vaguely hoping my voice doesn't betray my emotion. "It needs to be cooked solid to go on a tortilla." I put the skillet back on the burner. Again. She hovers.
Back to the computer for one more report. Pack the computer bag. Is there a worn spot in the carpet from all this back-and-forth? Probably.
In the kitchen, the egg is done. I remove the skillet and grab a tortilla and slap it on the burner. This time, I don't leave because tortillas cook in about 15 seconds on a hot burner. The tortilla isn't cooking.
Look up...the burner is off. "Oh, no. The burner is off."
Teresa responds, "I turned it off when I removed the egg."
"It needed to finish, and I have to cook the tortilla." I'm hoping that my voice is non-committal. I'm balancing on first one foot then the other, wishing I could hurry up the tortilla. Did I mention that I'm ADHD???
She hovers in the background while I finish. I roll the egg in the tortilla, wrap it in a paper towel, and head back to my office.
Five minutes to cook a tortilla. Grrrr. I grab my coat, frozen mineral water, towel wrapped burrito, bag full of reports and head out to my toasty warm car.
When is help too much?? Or, do I need a keeper????