While making cupcakes an hour ago, I broke my beloved red bowl.
It wasn't the baking, it was the cleaning up. I knew I hated washing dishes.
Before getting it down, that little voice told me to just get the metal one out and use that one. I didn't listen.
Now I have a beautifully broken red bowl, and a gash in my hand - covered with gauze and tape.
Somebody keep me out of the kitchen please!
***I would have taken a photo of the broken bowl, but it was just too sad***