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Only I could cut myself on salsa.
Not the jar or the lid.
On the salsa itself.
There I was, making breakfast and coffee; my eggs were merrily cooking and I'd fetched a jar of salsa from the fridge. This wasn't my usual jar of salsa, which I'd finished yesterday. This was one I hadn't opened for a while, and it was hard to get open.
I tightened my grip on the lid, and turned.
Ow!
A sharp piece of dried salsa had given me a nice clean cut almost 3/4 the length of the last joint on my pinky finger.
So that is how I cut myself on salsa, possibly one of the least sharp substances on the planet. I usually avoid sharp objects in the morning; I wasn't expecting my salsa to be one of them!
Not the jar or the lid.
On the salsa itself.
There I was, making breakfast and coffee; my eggs were merrily cooking and I'd fetched a jar of salsa from the fridge. This wasn't my usual jar of salsa, which I'd finished yesterday. This was one I hadn't opened for a while, and it was hard to get open.
I tightened my grip on the lid, and turned.
Ow!
A sharp piece of dried salsa had given me a nice clean cut almost 3/4 the length of the last joint on my pinky finger.
So that is how I cut myself on salsa, possibly one of the least sharp substances on the planet. I usually avoid sharp objects in the morning; I wasn't expecting my salsa to be one of them!
