A Chili-ng Tale

Yesterday I made a big crock pot full of chili for todays' fellowship dinner.  And a bowl of green jello with fruit cocktail.  I did not spill a drop of the jello.  But as I was making my last trip to the car this morning with the crock pot in two hands, and my purse over my shoulder, the handle on the crock pot fell off and the entire crockpot crashed to the floor and spilled and splashed as only two gallons of tomato based greasy sauce full of lumps and beans can spill and splash.  Like two feet up on two separate white walls.  And all over the floor, and my shoes and splatters up to my knees. And beans that rolled all the way under the couch.  And then I set my purse down in it.
So I did what any self respecting PW would do in this situation.  I posted it on FaceBook.
(The Queen of Queens expressed surprise that so many of my FB friends could relate to spilling a crock pot full of fellowship dinner chili on a Sunday morning.  Because the devil can still disrupt her Sunday morning with a poopy diaper, or a projectile vomiting child.  Once you move out of this phase of your life, the devil uses dropped casseroles and misplaced car keys to make you late and irritable.  The Queen will learn this.  There is no need to tell her.)  
And then I took my camera out of my purse to get a picture.  Because it was picture worthy and I wanted to share it with you. 

Right here is where I would put the picture. 

But when I turned my camera on it politely asked me to charge the battery.  Because that's the kind of day the devil wanted me to have.  But I had just read and posted about how God is not afraid of a mess.  So even though it wasn't my plan to clean up chili, I embraced rose to accepted the challenge, counted to 2 and 1/2, and scooped and scraped and scrubbed.  I scooped the top portion into a smaller casserole (oh, yes, I did!)  because I applied the 3 second rule and it never really hit the floor and even though I wouldn't feed chili off the floor to the general public, I am not above serving it to the STP.  And then I scraped the majority of the wonderful smelling chili into the garbage can.  (The smell was one advantage cleaning up chili had over cleaning up projectile vomit.)  And then, just as I was almost done scrubbing, I backed into the garbage can and spilled the chili in the other direction and down one more wall.  And then God and I laughed together, and I said, "Not today!" to the devil and I went to church and worshipped.  And the jello was a hit at fellowship dinner. 
All in all, it was a very good day.

THE END