Keep your hands off my crock pot.

This is my patented "Crock-pot anti-meddling device" (c)...it is meant to prevent inteference from old men who think they know thing 1 about cooking...old men who think that when a crock pot looks "dry and crusty on top" that it is time to unplug raw meat 2 hours early and "eat a bowl with 2 tortillas".

If you call now, you can get not 1, but 2 of these revolutionary devices for the bargain price of $9.99.

As you can see, taped to the cabinets (only because I couldn't figure out how to replace the staplers in the industrial stapler), are 18 reasons why you (meaning my father) should never touch the crock pot.

Reason 18) not unless there is smoke and/or flames shooting from the crock pot, even then, this kitchen was burned down twice in my youth, the last time I had to put it out at age 12 with an extinguisher while my mother huddled against the kitchen door screaming bloody murder. I think we've already had our run on kitchen fires.

This is literally the means I have to go to, to get a message across to anyone about anything in this house....the day when I have to wake up and damn near instantly go and find the spray paint and a scrap piece of wood on the side of the house, and more than 1 door gets slammed in a row...it is NOT a good day.

Yeah, I lost it a little bit today.

Summertime, graveyard shift, semi sick over the weekend, and just plain sick of having everything constantly messed with pushed me over the edge. You live with your disabled senior citizen father day in and day out and tell me how you manage to cope with it. He's not cute all the time. It's funny now but in the haze of spray paint fumes at 245pm with sleep dust still in my eyes and anger boiling through my veins, the funny was still in it's own crock pot.

Lesson of the day: don't mess with a sleeping woman's crock pot.