a cotton candy machine ate me alive
Or tried to — who knew cotton candy could be dangerous? Certainly not I, except that being 99% sugar and 1% various artificial and toxic non-foodstuffs, it will wreak havoc on my teeth, which is a sore spot already (for me, anyway). My kids’ elementary school has an annual fund-raising spring fair. I’ve been in charge of the fund-raising brochure the past few years, which consists of six months of begging friends, family and strangers for money to support the under-privileged children of Scarsdale NY. Hmmm.
So I abandoned fund-raising for one fun-filled day of making cotton candy — it’s pretty, pink and fluffy and my kids would be overjoyed at having an in at the cotton candy booth.
1 1/2 hours into my 3 hour commitment and my husband peers into the machine and says, “you’d better be careful — I’m serious!” Ha, ha, ha hubby! you are so funny! It’s a hot, sunny day, long line of kids waiting for their floaty confection, kids asking for change, someone else telling me about why she prefers soda in a can, etc, etc. I spy a big glob of cotton candy at the bottom of the drum which is preventing me from creating the perfect cone of spun sugar joy, so I shove my hand in to pluck it out and AAAAAAAAA!!!!!
yeah — kids traumatized, cotton candy booth shut down, my finger nail ripped off (and then sewn back on), broken finger and nine stitches. Best part: nurse on duty screaming louder than me — “I don’t do emergencies!!!!!! I’m just supposed to treat kids with skinned knees!”
That was Saturday. Today, Tuesday, I had phase two of my gum surgery — skin cut from my palate was grafted onto my lower gums. About a thousand stitches in my mouth. No pain killers to go. I’ve got more stitches than a Raggedy Ann doll, plus all the nerve endings of an almost alive and kicking human being. Good thing hubby bought a case of wine last week.