"Mantrums"

I know I just started this blog, but I couldn't resist posting about this.
So, this weekend I bought a roast, and planned to cook it on Saturday. However, I ended up running more errands than I planned, and it didn't get cooked. Sunday came around and I intended to fix the roast on that day, but, well...it didn't happen either.
So by today I was fairly sure that I needed to fix this roast or risk some sort of food borne illness that comes from consuming overly ripe meat. The problem was that my dad was coming over for dinner at six, I had a meeting at school until 4:00, and the roast needed to braise for at least 3 hours. Solution: I texted Dan the directions to start the roast, figuring I would be home in time to repair any real damage and save dinner.
It should be noted: my husband, bless his heart, is not what I would call....culinarily inclined. He has no desire to be either. But after I explained to him that he either needed to start the roast at 2:30 or wait until 8:00 to eat dinner, he was willing to help.
I came home from school at about 4:30. The roast was happily braising in the pot, it smelled great, everything looks perfect. Dan even tells me that I can go clean out and organize the bathroom cabinet I have been wanting to get to and he'll finish up dinner. Wow, right!?
So, while I was in the bathroom organizing our extra toothpastes, and travel sized shampoos and conditioners, Dan comes in and, with his hands behind his back, tells me that in the process of preparing the roast he broke something. My heart sinks. I'm wracking my brain trying to remember if any of our valuables or breakables were missing from their normal spots when I came in the house.
To my relief and (to his chagrin) amusement, Dan pulls out a pair of tongs from behind his back. As the picture shows, they have been smooshed and bent beyond repair.
"How did you manage that?" I asked incredulously.
"I don't wanna talk about it..." he mumbles. It turns out the tongs made the grievous error of not holding on tightly to the roast as Dan was browning it, causing hot grease to splatter on him and burn him. In response to their failure he flung them across the room, where, given the appearance of them, I can only guess they met a force stronger and harder than them and crumpled to the floor.
This, ladies and gentleman, can only be described as a "mantrum". A tantrum thrown by a grown man.
Believe it or not, this is not my first experience with the "mantrum". Unfortunately, I have never witnessed one personally, but the aftermath is always spectacular.
Last year it was the crumpled and fizzing Squirt cans I found in the sink who I later learned had a brother who had the nerve to fall out of their cardboard container while Dan was carrying in the groceries. The other cans, although innocent, paid for their brother's mistake by being pummeled by Dan's fist (actually, Dan's fist came out the worst for it...but don't try pointing that out anytime within a month of the "mantrum" incident).
Before that it was the cardboard shake can that slipped from it's plastic bag while being carried from the grocery store to the car. None of the other cans even made it to the car, let alone home. I have also heard from eyewitness accounts that passerby actually stopped and stared slack-jawed as this "mantrum" progressed.
I guess, in the end, I'm just grateful that the "mantrum's" fury is usually expended on inanimate objects, and not me or my fur children.
We needed a new pair of tongs anyway. When I shop for new ones I will try to make sure they are up to demanding tasks they will be put through.