Have you ever been attacked by a baked potato?
Well now I can claim this dubious distinction. I have been attacked by an evil-minded spud.
There I was eagerly anticipating my dinner, the house was quiet, the kids were finally asleep. I have pulled out the potatoes from the oven. As soon as I pierced one with the knife it blue up, in my face, all over the stove, all over the floor… Who would have thought that there was so much pulp in this old potato.
Thankfully I have escaped any serious injury. The second potato was not booby-trapped, it was OK.
Now I will get over my trauma and knit.