Flying potatoes

Yesterday was a day of high emotions for me.  I had to go in to get an ultrasound on most of my organs to see what has been causing all of the pain in my side, stomach and chest the past few days.  Thanks to your prayers, the doctor said that everything looked normal.  That was a huge relief and blessing.  I was anxious all night wondering if I would have to get my gallbladder removed.  Another blessing--Landon went to a podiatrist and finally found out what is wrong with his foot.  The best part is that it is still something that can be fixed--hopefully in the next couple of weeks, with some pills from the doctor along with home therapy and hot/cold treatments.
So, I was happy, and grateful, but at the same time a little frustrated.  We still don't know what has been causing the pain in my side (whatever was hurting my stomach has stopped), and the doctor said we will probably just deal with it unless it gets worse.  I tend to have a high pain tolerance, so the fact that it wakes me up at night already seems like it's pretty bad.
So, I was starting to make dinner last night with some bad pain in my side, along with my back that has been hurting since I injured it the other day.  I've been walking like a granny since Saturday.  I probably wasn't in a great mood.
We had decided to try making a Spanish tortilla--something I had all the time while I was living in Spain.  I've been wanting to try it with Landon for a while, but we haven't gotten around to doing it until now.  I was also making bacon on the side, so it just really topped off my bad attitude when the grease popped me in the eye.  I'm not meaning to complain, just to give you the set-up...
The Spanish tortilla was going pretty well for our first time making it.  Until the flipping stage. This is when you have to turn over essentially a gargantuan sized omelet, with heavy potatoes in the middle. It is about 2 inches thick, and the size of our largest frying pan. Those little Spanish ladies have skills, and they just flip it with a plate like it's nothing.  But if you are like me, and struggle to turn over a normal fried egg without breaking it all over, then this is no small task. I called over Landon for reinforcement. I told him the plan (how they say to do it in the recipes, and from the little ladies I met).  We got it half-way there, and Landon decided to change the plan because he thought it would be easier.  He gave me a 3 count, and I didn't register in time to object, but in my mind, it wasn't a good idea :)  On three, he tried to flip it with the pan and part of flippers, and it missed and ended up all over the stove and burners.
At that moment, I look back now and think I should have busted up laughing. It was a pretty great scene. Landon and I agree we should have taken a picture.  But at the time, I was already running on high emotions, and I couldn't say anything. I blame pregnancy, and the pain I was in at the time, but I wanted to cry. Landon could tell, so he hurried to clean it up, and said he was sorry for ruining the dinner. I told him it would taste the same either way.  And it did.  But I couldn't muster up a smile.
The experience makes me think of a talk by Elder Wirthlin called "Come What May, and Love it", and the section about learning to laugh in tough situations.  I didn't laugh at the time, but really, I think of the flying eggs and potatoes now and can't help but bust up.  I don't know why I was so upset.  So, if you ever feel like a failure at cooking, at least you know there are others of us that can relate.  And next time you feel like crying, try to laugh instead.