Ketchup bombs.

   It occurred to me that reading blogs is most certainly one of my major self-indulgences during the day.  I generally gravitate to those that are either amusing or are written by someone I know, or both.  So I figured hey, I could try my hand at this.  So here we go! 
   I'm pretty sure that my musings on life and the things that go on around me aren't going to change the world by being posted on the Internet, but at least it'll entertain me for a while and perhaps those who read this.  Being a self-proclaimed "city-girl" who just happened to wind up in rural Minnesota by chance (and because of the right job) has turned me into a bit of the proverbial square peg, but I do my best.  My adventures out here never cease to amuse those I tell them to, so now I am going to share them with the world as well. 
   For today's topic, I will focus on ketchup.  Yes, ketchup.  I did a very unusual thing today and went to McDonald's for lunch.  I did this for several reasons.  First, I was bored with the chicken and dumplings leftovers I had in my fridge, second, I had a hankering for chicken tenders, and third, I was being just plain lazy.  I ordered "chicken selects" and fries, with a side of ranch dressing for dipping (my adorable god-daughter has re-introduced me to the joys of "dip").  Chicken nuggets just wouldn't do because of the awful and frightening recent news photos of what chicken nuggets are actually made of...

   I admit, the selects are probably not much better, but that image has been haunting me and I couldn't order them.  The selects at least do a better job of masquerading as CHICKEN, so I made my choice accordingly.  Moving on.  The very nice McDonald's order-taker/college student very thoughtfully asked if I would like them to provide me with some ketchup for my fries.  A request that I have never gotten before, but was very pleased to have been given, so naturally I told the speaker-box that yes, indeed I would like some ketchup!  Unbeknownst to me, the request would literally blow up in my face less than 15 minutes later.  You see, I am convinced the tiny packets of ketchup provided to poor, unsuspecting consumers are made with the sole intention of causing massive havoc in the lives of the user.  These are not "user-friendly" inventions and should be shunned until a more acceptable form of drive-thru window condiment dispensary can be created.
   I brought my chicken tenders and fries home to eat while watching Rachael Ray and Ina Garten on Food Network (a lunch hour ritual of mine).  I was generally enjoying my lunch of unhealthy greasy "chicken" and fries with my ranch dressing.  Ranch is by far a superior condiment to ketchup.  It just is.  Take my word for it.  As such, I was using the precious ranch dressing, hoping it would last through all three chicken tenders and all of my fries.  Sadly, it didn't.  I made it through the chicken and about half of the fries with the ranch and then had to switch to the ketchup I so conveniently had thanks to the McDonald's drive-thru gentleman.  PERFECT!  2 tiny packets of ketchup will surely be sufficient for me to enjoy the remainder of my french fries with lovely "dipping" pleasure.  The first packet opened just fine and the contents were easily dispensed into the empty ranch cup (because "remainder ranch" and ketchup sounded like a fabulous combination).  But one packet just would not suffice.  I required both to ensure a proper french fry to ketchup ratio.  So I opened the second fateful packet. 
   Apparently my skills were used up on the first packet because this one opened with only the tiniest gap through which the ketchup had to travel in order to get to the outside.  Being an impatient consumer of french-fries, rather than tear the evil packet again to provide a sufficient orifice through which the ketchup could travel, I instead just squeezed the packet harder to make the ketchup come out faster.  Now, hindsight is 20/20, and looking back now I realize that this was probably not the best course of action, but alas, here is what ensued.  The ketchup bomb ticked it's last tock and proceeded to EXPLODE.  Thank goodness ketchup bombs are not very big because I only got ketchup shrapnel on my hands... or so I thought.  I washed my hands, finished my lunch, and went back to work.
   Nearly two hours later, after having been to the coffee shop, talking to co-workers and walking through a slew of construction people in the hallway, I discovered the cruelest trick of the ketchup bomb: the-sneaky-flying-shrapnel-that-lands-on-your-left-cheek-and-under-your-chin-but-doesn't-alert-you-of-its-evil-presence.  I had been walking around all afternoon with ketchup on my face??  What am I?  A third-grader who got over-zealous with the tater tots? 
   So lesson learned.  When the McDonald's people attempt to do you a favor by offering ketchup packets (now known as ketchup bombs), JUST SAY NO.  Ketchup terrorism cannot be tolerated in modern society.  Consider yourself warned.