Stupid Pancakes

In honour of Pancake Day, I made American pancakes tonight, instead of the traditional thin pancakes, because Rob and Ben both requested them. Each time I finished one, I stacked it on a pile in the oven and the stack got quite high so I put the final 3 on the baking tray on the shelf above. I then took the plate out of the oven and put it on the counter, pulled out the baking tray and transferred the last three to the top of the pile, then picked up the plate. That's right, with my bare hands.

I realised very VERY soon that this was a bad idea - I dropped the plate back down again and my only thought was that the plate was going to fall off the counter and onto the floor, and all my hard work would be for nothing. Luckily the plate didn't fall on the floor and the pancakes were fine, but by then my mind was well and truly on the fact that the pads of all my fingers were hurting like hell. I spent the next 15 minutes with my hands under the cold water tap, cursing myself for being so darn stupid in the kitchen. I manage to burn, cut or otherwise maim myself like this (although not usually on this scale) at least once a fortnight.

The reason I was picking the plate up was to move it to a better spot so I could photograph my culinary achievement. By the time I took my hands out from under the cold water, Ben and Rob had eaten the achievement, so you'll have to take my word for it - they tasted really good!

UPDATE WEDNESDAY: Right hand fared better than left. Just got red marks on the pads of right fingers, but blisters on the pads of the left ones. As Ben remarked, now would be a good time to commit a crime...