Chet? You Ok?

Who is Chet?  And what on Earth did he do to deserve that!?

Nothing says "Christmas" quite like your favorite carols.  (When I was a teenager it was Carols Aubin, Cherry, and Alt, a classmate, a leader of my youth group, and supermodel...but I digress.)  And for me, and my ever misfiring brain, there is nothing like the songs that you can change the words to.  Most have heard to stirring rendition of, "Batman Smells" by one, Bart Simpson.  When the Batmobile loses a wheel and Robin lays an egg...tears!  That song is a little out of my baritone range however so I am resigned to sing about poor, poor Chet and the unfortunate incidents in his life that led him up to that fateful night, and an open fire.  Tragic!  (and to add Jack Frost nipping at your nose...well that is just sadistic)

I apologize to the good people of Malaysia who are reading this to perhaps strengthen their English skills...but there is just too much to explain.

I actually do have a little experience with chestnuts, chessstnuuuts, and can say with certainty that if you choose to involve them in your next open fire, I hope your insurance is paid up!  For me, chestnuts rest in the category of "don't need to try them" for one simple reason. 

When chestnut experts talk about them they say, "You know, there are two main types.  One type is poisonous." 
"That's fine.  Pass the macaroni and cheese.  And someone start working on a Christmas song about Lasagna!"

As most newly married men will tell you, the rules you thought you knew. do not apply.  Our first Christmas together, Sylvia and I happened across some chestnuts in a store.  I started to say, "You know, there are two typ..." and then I was in line at the register paying for my bag of chestnuts!  Sylvia comforted me by saying, "It'll be great!  Just like the song!"  The only problem was that there is an "open fire" in the song, and while the thermostat on our oven was malfunctioning, the chances of an open fire were slim and none.  (well, fair to moderate)

The kind lady at the register did offer a little help.  She said, "You know, you need to cut a cross into one side of them.  That is why they became associated with Christmas."  She didn't say it with a sense of foreboding...but she could have. 

We walked home, we "fire"d up the oven, we cut little crosses into the sides, and sat down to watch, It's a Wonderful Life.  We were probably sampling the homemade German eggnog that doubled as a degreaser and high powered jet fuel, but that part is a little fuzzy.  We got about to the part where George is threatening to make Mary walk home without her robe (that part always makes me laugh) when I heard..."poom!" in the kitchen.  It sounded exactly like a tiny little hand grenade going off in an oven...that has a faulty thermostat.  Against my better judgment I opened the door to see the rest of our "treats" squirming and sizzling like gigantic Mexican Jumping beans on a skillet!  They, and every surface of the oven, were covered with the remnants of their comrade in arms.  The poor guy never had a chance. 

Apparently there is a membrane inside these tiny little explosive charges that you need to cut when you cut the cross into them.  We managed to accomplish that!...on all but one.  I can now tell you, as the exploding chestnut expert. that it takes approximately four hours to de-chestnut an oven that held partially de-membraned Christmas treats.  In that time you can jokingly ask 47 times, "Whose idea was it to roast chestnuts again?" That's ok, I would do it again.  Not that I liked the taste all that much.  I am just a sucker for making the season bright...sometimes.  And this time I will stab the little crosses into them like I am Jason, and chestnuts are coeds in the forest.  (Now there's a nice little Christmas image!)

As some of you may have realized, I started to write about how Sylvia and I met since our anniversary is only a few days away...Friday, to be exact.  You may be saying, "Jeff!  What are you doing man!?  You need to let us know the real story!  You shouldn't be talking about exploding food!"  Well this was just too important a topic to pass up.  Think of it as a PSA (public service announcement) not to be confused with a TSA (which involves removing most of your clothes...and various body parts).  I am going to be fine.  I will be able to write about how we met soon.  But first I need to try to fix my roof leak issue.  Apparently our roofer was a crook and forged permits and stole materials.  Warranty?  Hah!

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to try to find my roofer...I think his name was Chet!