Yep. It broke completely in two and plopped on the oven door. (No, I do not make these things up. See for yourself. Here's the other half.)
Okay, Kathie, repeat after me, "I will not cry, I will not cry".
No problem, I thought, trying to keep my cool. I'll just scoop this up in a separate bowl, and serve the rest. It will still be good. Jay will never know the difference. When he gets home he'll just think that William ate most of it.
Speaking of William, he comes into the kitchen to see what all the banging clanging is about. He takes one look and asks (in disgust), "What is that supposed to be?"
"Chicken Pot Pie - homemade Chicken Pot Pie," I smiled proudly, thinking of the hour of love I put into creating this fine, albeit half-wasted meal.
"I hate Chicken Pot Pie," he said, expressionless.
"Hmm," I thought. "WWJD? What would June do?"
I stood there for a minute, still trying not to cry - or cuss - when it hit me. No, not the oven door. The realization of knowing exactly what June would do. She'd ask for a re-take, someone from the prop department would bring her a new pie and they'd live happily ever after until next week's episode.
I'm not June, even though my life does read like a sit-com. I do not have a 'take-two', nor do I have a prop department, so, bursting into laughter I reached down and scooped up what I'd dropped and gave it to someone who really appreciates me. My sweet Sally Bear.
So what? I'm not June Cleaver, Martha Stewart, or Paula Deen, for that matter! I can accept that.
But what really gets me is that when I took the "Which Andy Griffith Show Character are You?" I'm not even Aunt Bee!
I'm Otis! Yes, Otis!!