*”You were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off!”

  So I’m known to be lacking in a certain amount of common sense. Please do not confuse this with intelligence. Although I wouldn’t go as far to say that I’m intelligent I’m happy to state that I’m certainly clever. Now this common sense deficiency has provided me with many a comical tale to tell and seems to provide much amusement to those who witness it first hand. 

My latest mis-adventure involved a baby’s bottle and a microwave. Some mums would blame it on sleep deprivation, the incurable baby brain, or just pure distraction. I’m happy to admit that I just don’t have enough common sense to anticipate the unfortunate result of my actions. 

Having recently weaned George onto bottled cows milk, we were finding he was waking for a bottle a few hours after we ourselves went to bed. We were venturing downstairs to warm the bottle for him and then he would quickly drink this and go back to sleep. The same could not be said for who ever of us had got up to prepare the milk and then proceeded to spend the next few hours laying wide awake. The solution we thought, was to warm the milk until it was too hot to drink just before going to bed and placing it in a thermal bag. By the time George woke the milk was just at the right temperature and right by the bed so we didn’t disturb ourselves too much and everyone slept happily. 

I have always chosen to heat his milk in the microwave as although advice suggests not too in case of hot spots, I ensure I shake the bottle thoroughly to distribute the heat and test it before giving it to George. It’s a method that’s always worked and as we’ve only ever heated the milk for 30-50 seconds it’s always heated gently with the bottle fully assembled. To make the milk hot enough to take to bed and cool, I found 2 minutes was the perfect amount of time to spend heating it through. On the first night of “operation more sleep”,with the bottle fully assembled, I placed it in the microwave for a minute and a half. I tested it and decided it could do with being a bit hotter so put it on for a further 30 seconds which brought it to a nice hot temperature but when George woke a few hours later and I tested it it was cool enough for him to drink but not so cold he wouldn’t like it. 

On night 2, I followed the same process but this time I placed the fully assembled bottle in the microwave and set it for 2 minutes. Chatting away to hubby in the living room , checking he’d done all the locking up and turning off we both were suddenly interrupted by an almighty bang. I ran into the kitchen just in time to find the microwave door being blown open by the force, milk flying up in the air and spilling out onto the work surface and a great big hole in the side of the bottle. With only three seconds to spare on the timer. It was only then my hindsight voice kicked in. “Oh! I probably should’ve left the lid off, too much pressure”. After settling the cats and hubbies nerves I explained what I had done. Much to his exasperation. After all the action of the milk explosion we were both full of adrenaline and then spent the next hour both wide awake. My minds voice taking on the persona of Michael Caine, *”You were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off!” (*Quote from The Italian Job, 1969).

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