Short tale of the foolish me and the unfair soup

Foolish me & the unfair soup (it’s me whinging in funny way):

Decided to have soup for lunch, opt for the tinned sort.
The soup it seems did not so much want to be lunch. Immediately as I finish opening the can the lid slips just into the soup instead of sitting on it. Oh, of course soup, you would.
Risk cutting my fingers to fish it out, success with no injury.
Wash hands, pour in bowl; soup, determined to escape me, splashes over edge and splatters a bit onto counter and floor.
Sigh. I clean it up, and heat it in the microwave.
Reminded again that I don’t have oven-mitts, I take it out with a tea towel carry carefully to not displease the soup by sloshing it, or burn my fingers.
First bite I take only a small amount, it’s not steaming so I take that to mean safe. Nope, the soup sneak attacks, hecking burns my tongue.
Never trust soup.
Drink cold water, tongue seems okay.
Go to take second bite and–?? Where’s my spoon?
The soup did a ‘this must be mine’ and stole it to the bottom.
Wash new spoon to retrieve old spoon.
Second bite, still no steam, blow on it anyway– Soup changes tactics, instead of hot it is lukewarm.
I gamble and take a third bite without blowing on it, also lukewarm.
Remember that non-convection microwaves suck. Clearly in cahoots with the soup.

Stir, eat soup anyways. Too bad soup, I ate you, I win.
– the end. 😄

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