Ann Whitehurst

Before today, I wasn't familiar with the sensation of pasta sauce soaking through my pants.

It had been a long day, so I was trying to make a quick dinner: packaged cheese tortellini with jarred sauce, leftover bread, and spinach/carrot salad. The seal on the sauce that I was going to use had been broken a few days ago when my son dropped the jar on the floor. No big deal...I just put it in the fridge to use later. When I took the sauce out of the fridge, I brought it over next to the stove and gave it a quick shake. The bottom fell out of the jar and the sauce went everywhere: on my thighs (I was wearing jeans), the floor, the cabinets, in the crevice between the stove and the counter. I guess more damage had been done to the jar than I thought when it was dropped earlier in the week. What grossed me out the most was the sensation of the sauce soaking through my pants which were rolled up a little, so the cuffs also caught some tomato chunks. Luckily I had another jar of sauce.