no one told me that basters were stupid

The house must be like, mad at me or something.

Or, I’m finally going to admit I lack the ability to anticipate cause and effect.

I’m going with the former.

No sense in beating around the bush…never been very good at it anyway…

I burned Tim’s fingers last night with hot sugar water.

Exactly. The house hates me.


NOTE TO SELF: “Oops” is not the correct response when you’ve managed to melt skin off someone’s hand WITHOUT EVEN TOUCHING THEM.

You know, it’s not my fault I wasn’t given a tutorial on how to use all of the “appliances” in the kitchen.

And when I say “appliances” I mean basters.

And when I say basters I mean this one:


We may as well call it a bastard. Stupid thing got me in trouble.

See, it all started when I was microwaving a mixture of water and sugar to put on a peach crisp that I was baking. I was convinced the peaches would not produce enough “juice” and would instead be all dry and hard (here’s the recipe).



Anyhow, the microwave started to make these clicky noises and Tim was all, “WHAT DID YOU PUT IN THERE?!”

Me: “A measuring cup.”

Tim: “A WHAT?!”

He thought I meant like, the metal kind that makes microwaves explode and rushed over to take it out.

As he was climbing over the baby gate (we have to contort all cirque du soleil to get in and out of the kitchen. Thanks, Lexi), I’m all nonchalant like, “The glass kind. Geez, dude. Put your pants back on.”

Tim: “I thought you meant…whatever…DUDE.”

He decides to take precautionary measures, stops the microwave and removes my boiling concoction.

I didn’t want him taking over my little project, so I rocketed over the gate and grabbed a baster out of the utensil jar.

Tim stood there, watching me and questioning my motives (technically, dear husband, that was really your first mistake. Whenever I’m in the kitchen, you’re supposed to duck and cover).

I opened the oven and then sucked up some of the hot sugar water in the baster. Tim was on my right, the oven on the left and the hot liquid between Tim and I on the counter.

As I start to lift the baster from the measuring cup to put the liquid on the crisp, Tim goes, “You can’t do that. You have to get closer.”

Ok, people. Let’s just stop. Right there. Mistake number two.


I have a problem with patience and I also tend to take instructions literally.

I thought he meant that I HAVE TO GET CLOSER, so I bend my legs and get lower to the ground to get closer to the crisp sitting in the oven.

As an inadvertent side effect of my body movement, the baster went from a vertical position to a horizontal one, squirty end towards Tim, who was still standing there all, “NOT YOU! THE CRISP! TAKE IT OUT!”

And then…


No one explained to me that basters are stupid.

That basters don’t HOLD THE LIQUID INSIDE until squeezed.

When you turn the damn thing landscape direction it’s like you’ve unlocked a secret weapon.

Landscape direction equals ALL CONTAINED CONTENTS will rocket out with shocking velocity without any pressure on the little squeezy end.

As Tim was screaming and getting his fingers burned off, I just sat there, staring down at the baster all, “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THIS THING? IT’S BROKEN.”

No, not broken.



44 Responses to “no one told me that basters were stupid”

  1. 1 Lori September 17, 2009 at 8:46 am

    So. How was the peach crisp?

    But really, how’s Tim’s fingers?

    • 2 Jessica September 17, 2009 at 7:42 pm

      Lori: The peach crisp…….turned out too watery (GO FIGURE, right?). Tim’s finger is healing…I think it’s the emotional scarring we’re going to have to work with… 🙂

  2. 3 Rose September 17, 2009 at 8:51 am

    I don’t even know what to say other than flippin’ HYSTERICAL! Sorry Tim!

  3. 5 DebbieQ September 17, 2009 at 10:14 am

    I am laughing very hard. I am so sorry but that is VERY funny and believe me there are a lot of us who didn’t “read the manual” before attempting the use of a baster. Ask my children what happened on Thanksgiving one year. It wasn’t pretty.

  4. 7 Angelia September 17, 2009 at 10:29 am

    HA HA. Way funny. It’s like Baker on Elm Street or something. 😀 Get well soon, Tim!

  5. 9 LB @Wait, She Said What? September 17, 2009 at 10:42 am

    This sounds just like me when I attempt to do anything in the kitchen beyond opening the fridge. My hubby actually tries to ban me from knives, the stove or sometimes the entire kitchen itself. Susie homemaker I am not.

    I had one of these posts, “I cooked a tea kettle for dinner. What did you make?”

    It’s basically this post..only different.

  6. 11 Swistle September 17, 2009 at 10:57 am

    I think I can handle a baster from my experience with the mini-basters used to dispense children’s medication, and by “dispense” I mean “spray everywhere except down child’s throat.” But hot sugar water, I can’t handle. I got some on my finger the other day and I was all, “Ooo, pretty!” and then the burning started.

  7. 13 Nona September 17, 2009 at 11:50 am

    As a battle-scarred veteran of basters (it is my biggest dread at Thanksgiving besides my MIL’s scary Jello salad), I sympathize with you and your hubby. Hope he heals quickly.

    But lessons were learned: You now recognize the dangerous weapon that is a baster, and your hubs will never interfere when you hold one. Just looking on the bright side.

  8. 15 thebakerbee September 17, 2009 at 12:21 pm

    Awww… poor Tim! And poor you! Those basters can be tricky little bastards!

  9. 17 Chell September 17, 2009 at 2:42 pm

    I am laughing in my office and the people around me are probably thinking “what is she on?” Anyhow, LOVE it, not the fact that Tim got hurt… but that is really a cute story! Thanks for sharing!

  10. 19 Charlotte September 17, 2009 at 3:13 pm

    Shoot. One time I was making peanut brittle, which involves boiling down white sugar, white Karo and a bit of water to “spin-a-thread”, stirring it with a wooden spoon (which does not conduct heat) when Jerry came in the kitchen to see what I was up to. He always does that. Fifty four years later he does it. You’d think he would learn… But anyway, he comes in, asks what smells so good and I’m answering him, waving the wooden spoon coated with thousand-degree sugar syrup, and I Stick It To His Arm!

    Even if you rip it right off, the sugar syrup sticks like napalm. You’d think he would learn…

  11. 21 mrssoup September 17, 2009 at 3:54 pm

    OMG I could totally have written this. But I didn’t know that they don’t hold it in either.

    Course, I never would have been baking. And if I was, my husband would be laying down somewhere else, because he would think he was dreaming.

    • 22 Jessica September 17, 2009 at 7:32 pm

      mrssoup: Glad it wasn’t just me…I was starting to feel REALLY dumb….(not that I think you’re dumb…just now I’m not alone in my exclusive little baster club… 🙂 )

  12. 23 Jenera September 17, 2009 at 4:11 pm

    that would be why I threw mine away. After being scalded with meat drippings one too many times, I figured I’d do better without the damn thing.

  13. 25 sunnymum September 17, 2009 at 6:16 pm

    They ARE evil! Glass measuring cups have a tendency to super-heat liquids in the microwave too. Eeek!

  14. 27 Elizabeth_K September 17, 2009 at 6:55 pm

    That does sound like a dangerous baster — you and your husband were the innocent bystanders! Forget accepting blame — throw away the baster! 🙂

  15. 29 Jen September 17, 2009 at 8:13 pm

    This is awesome!! Not about burning the husband but just in general…

    I too love Tetons and Yellowstone!

    • 30 Jessica September 17, 2009 at 8:18 pm

      Jen: Thanks! We did get a laugh out of it all eventually….and by the way, I’d live there (WY)…bears and all…in a second. The Tetons are like…awe inspiring!

      Thanks for stopping by! Hope to see you around from time to time 🙂

  16. 31 jeshka September 17, 2009 at 11:02 pm

    Now to get some ice cream to soothe his fingers and your sweet tooth (what with the lack of peach crisp and all).

  17. 32 Laurie Ann September 17, 2009 at 11:42 pm

    My mom makes a Chinese Chicken dish with a soy sauce glaze. She served it in the pan with a baster on the side so you could squirt the glaze over your rice. One day, my brother basted my dad.

    We use a ladle now.

  18. 34 G September 18, 2009 at 12:22 am

    Hahaha wow. You just made my life (of course, at the expense of poor Tim’s fingers) but you know, I could have told you if you asked me. Basters, tongs and mixers are all pretty stupid. I blame the government and their shortage of funds for higher education of appliances.

    • 35 Jessica September 18, 2009 at 8:24 am

      G: I don’t know…apparently I cannot even handle something as rudimentary as a baster…I’d probably like cause some national security breach with something high tech…

  19. 36 Erin September 18, 2009 at 3:14 am

    Friggin basterds.

    You’re hilarious!

  20. 38 Heather September 18, 2009 at 7:19 am

    All I can i say is: Serves him right for getting in the way! Christ, do men know nothing? I mean when you told him it was a glass jug that should have been the end of it. He should have just left, but no had to get involved! Don’t blame the baster, blame the man! Lol. I hope Tim’s finger is okay though. That can be very painful indeed.

  21. 40 franzi September 18, 2009 at 1:17 pm

    i’m surprised you didn’t post any picture of tim’s finger 😉 didn’t dear hubby allow you to??? lol

    you know, i guess it’s like what they say about computers. it’s the user who is the problem, not the computer… 🙂


  22. 41 Shelly September 18, 2009 at 6:31 pm

    It definitely doesn’t pay to cook. Too much effort, way too many injuries.

  23. 42 bevchen September 19, 2009 at 5:41 am

    Hahahaha. Oh, poor Time. But really, it’s funny! 😀

  24. 43 bevchen September 19, 2009 at 5:41 am

    Poor Tim I mean, not poor Time…

  1. 1 kitchen masochism « booshy Trackback on August 30, 2011 at 9:57 am

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