I normally wear contact lenses, but the other day I happened to be wearing my glasses instead when I was prepping a slow-cooker soup. I got out a big yellow onion to chop and started peeling it.
Now here’s the thing about contacts: they block out your pupils. This means that I’m not usually bothered by things like campfire smoke and onion fumes. The Burny-Fumey part doesn’t make it into the Stingy part of my eye (this is all very scientific, isn’t it?). So I sometimes forget that those things hurt. If I sit around a campfire with you I might even think you’re a wimp for switching seats when the smoke blows your way.
Now, back to my kitchen. I cut into the onion and within a second and a half the Burny-Fumey part had reached my eyes.
“AAAgh!” I screamed while furiously trying to finish cutting the onion without chopping my fingers off.
The more I kept cutting the more the tears were streaming down my face. I could barely see. I decided that roughly chopped chunks were going to have to make do and quickly threw the giant pieces of onion into the slow cooker.
I scrubbed my hands, tears streaming down my face, then started mopping my face with my t-shirt. Two preschool age-shaped blobs came into my bleary view, “Mom? Are you okay?”
“Waahaaaa,” I cried, and opened up the freezer and stuck my head inside. When the tears finally subsided and my vision cleared I came out out of the freezer and saw my two boys standing there giving me The Look. You know, The Look that men give you when you’re hysterically sobbing and both of you have no idea why and they’re uncomfortable and a little annoyed at the same time…
Yeah. They’ve mastered The Look.
The struggle is real, guys.
P.S. The soup was awesome!
Here’s the recipe if you’re interested.