You can’t see it so well in the picture*** (so much for the lawsuit!) but I was reaching to get a Meijer Rotisserie Chicken (I wanted the one in the BACK because I like it when it’s really well-done) and gave myself a nice 2nd-degree burn on my hand.
I probably should have reported it, but at the time I just wanted to get home and eat my dinner . . . plus I was perhaps a bit embarrassed, since I knew it was my own fault.
at left: my guilty pleasure. (Proverbs 23:1-3)
***Update: We have now progressed to a lovely blister, so I’ve changed the picture. (the better to gross you out with, my dearies!)
My cyber-chondriacal research says that you’re supposed to break the blister and let the guck come out . . . but no way.
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Um, that looks infected. Did you put Neosporin on it? Better yet, I have this wonderful Polysporin from Canada and I swear it works better. So if you want to borrow it let me know. Good Lord I am turning into my mother. . .