I'll Never Feel The Same About Sweet Tea Again.

SO I was going to wait to write this post till I got a good picture of the souvenir I walked away with (more like crawled away with) from Saturday's escapades of making sweet tea. But first I should say that we are addicted to this Southern nectar known as sweet tea. Back when we first moved to Nashville, Jason's aunt Bettie Walker taught me how to make southern-style sweet tea and since then we have lived off this drink throughout the hot summers.

Back to the story - Saturday morning I got up early (9am, it was early to me ok?) and we left for Jason's baseball game out in Franklin. After they won to a shut out of 15-0 we left after the 5th inning and had lunch at Rafferty's, just the two of us :-) On the way home we stopped at a brand new coffee shop that opened up a couple blocks from our house called the Ugly Mugs and enjoyed a great cup of coffee (the owners are from the Northwest, so they knew what they were doing! LOVE THIS PLACE! Definitely will become mine & Jason's new spot!)

From there we headed back home and Jason thought he might take advantage of this awesome weather we've been having and mow the lawn. Just as he's getting ready to start the weed-wacking, he asks if I'll make a pitcher of sweet tea for him. No problem, I do this ALL the time. So I head into the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil. In a matter of minutes the kettle is whistling and I take out a large glass pitcher and scoop in the sugar, pouring the 2 liters of hot water over it so it would melt. As the last drop of water fills the pitcher, it explodes like a bomb!!! ALL 2 liters of BOILING HOT WATER splashes all over my legs, the counter, oven, floor, cabinets....everywhere. The next thing I know I'm ripping my pants off and grabbing the nearest towel to douse it in cold water from the sink. I wrap the towel across the front of my thighs and head to the back of the house starting to panic at the realization of what just happened. I open the backdoor and step out on the porch, in my underwear, screaming Jason's name, but he had the weed-wacker going in the front of the house so he couldn't hear me.

At this point, the searing pain is setting in and I'm REALLY starting to panic. I can't get to the front of the house because there is shattered glass all over the kitchen floor, laundry and dining rooms and I was barefoot. So I took my wet towel and curled up against the fridge and started banging on the kitchen window till Jason came across to the side of the house. It was probably only 5 minutes, but after what felt like forever he heard the pounding and saw my panicked face and ran into the house. At first he couldn't tell what happened because it was such a mess. And I was at this point sobbing from the pain. He grabs a huge ice pack and we called my mother-in-law Sherry, since she's a former nurse, for what we should do next. She said the best thing would be to get into an ice cold bath and fill it with ice cubes. Ever done that before?? BRRRRR!!!!!! And yes, I was a total baby, it hurt like hell and it was probably 30 minutes before I was numb enough to not feel any pain. After that the weekend was kind of a bust because of my stupid mistake. I guess its good that all I'm doing much these days anyway is watching the Olympics, because I was useless otherwise.

The burn is the size of my hand on my upper right thigh and is healing slowly but surely. There's some blistering, but I'm being careful to keep it from getting infected. So what is the lesson we've all learned here? NEVER pour boiling hot water into ANYTHING glass!!