If it Wasn’t For the 5-Second Rule, I’d be Hungrier

Laurie Fellezs
Aug 22, 2017 · 4 min read
Scene of the Crime.

Just how many times can a fully functioning adult rely on the 5-second rule to get by in life, and when is it appropriate? I was in a cooking class once, where the teacher dropped the pan full of food on the floor that she was going to be serving to the next class to eat, and then said, ‘No Worries: Five-Second Rule!’

Personally, I’ve done it too many times to keep track. I finish up cooking something and then promptly drop it on the floor before I can serve it.

I MAY have dropped my Thanksgiving turkey once, but I don’t remember what year.

Sometimes I eat it, and sometimes I don’t. There are rules involved. I am not an uncivilized hillbilly.

A couple of weeks ago, I decided to make some of my amazing chocolate chip cookies. I don’t especially like baking cookies because it’s so time-consuming, and I will make them bigger, so I can get them done faster. After a couple of hours of effort, though, I usually end up with only 24 cookies or so, instead of the 48 the recipe promises (the world is full of liars)!

While the first batch was busy cooling, I pulled out the second pan of cookies. My hand slipped off the protective potholder and hit the edge of the burning hot cookie sheet. Immediately in response to the intense burning feeling, I jerked my hand and literally slammed the cookie pan, cookie-side down, on the kitchen floor.

After screaming some well-chosen expletives involving female relatives and X-rated physical activity, I started giggling as I pictured what the whole fiasco looked like from outside. If someone had looked in the kitchen window at that moment, they would have seen a somewhat normal looking (not nude) middle-aged woman removing a pan of cookies from the oven and then immediately slamming them to the ground in a demented I-caught-a-winning-football-in-the-endzone-type move. Awesome visual!

When the cookies were ready I told my husband he had his choice of the regular cookies or the ‘floor cookies’. Needless to say, after hearing the difference in recipes, he chose the regular cookies, leaving all ‘floor cookies’ for me.

I could have kept it a secret, but I am a good person and ‘fessed up (unlike the cookie recipe makers who promised me 48 cookies!), even though it meant I had to eat all the ‘floor cookies’. What I won’t do for love.

Just this morning I managed to cook the perfect over-easy egg, and was waiting somewhat impatiently for my toast to finish up in the toaster oven–which happens to be THE slowest way to make toast by the way. The last few seconds passed slowly, followed by the pre-requisite ‘Ding’ of the oven letting me know it was finally ready.

I quickly pulled out the perfectly toasted piece of sourdough bread, laid it on my plate next to my equally perfect egg, and doused it with olive oil in readiness for the egg. Somehow, in moving my hand over the toast, my finger hit the toast knocking it to the floor, leaving a perfect olive oil face-plant on the linoleum (or maybe more accurately it was a toast-plant, since toast doesn’t have a face unless, of course, you see the face of Jesus on your toast–and then that’s a whole other story).

Jesus-free, my toast stared back up at me from my kitchen floor, mocking me. I did a quick analysis of the situation.

I am not a particularly freakish person about cleanliness. I tend to wash my kitchen floor every week, whether it needs it or not, and spend the rest of the time cleaning up spills with paper towels.

I determined that I had more-than-likely, very recently washed the floor and since I only use vinegar and water, there were no harsh chemicals at play. Also, we have a pet-free and shoe-free house.

Despite the fact I live in Manhattan, I’ve only seen one cockroach in my apartment and he was dead, and rarely so much as a spider. We seem to be very pest-free probably thanks to the fact that bug killers come and lay very potent poison traps in our building’s basement. As far as I can tell, nothing makes it out alive. (I certainly would not eat anything off the floor of the basement. I am not a savage!)

Rapidly approaching the 5-second mark, I made my decision and grabbed the toast up off the floor, threw it on my plate, threw the egg on top of it and ate it. And it was delicious.

The 5-second rule does not apply to camping or picnics.

I have rules and am not an animal!

Please clap as you consider how many times you may have been fed food that fell under the 5-second rule!

)

Laurie Fellezs

Written by

Hoping to Spew Humor Into the World. Planner of Everything, but My Life. www.lauriefellezs.com.

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