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When your anger is like an exploding egg in a pot boiled dry

This morning as I sat writing, two eggs were boiling on the stove. I was not paying attention and the pot ran dry. When one of the eggs exploded and  blew off the lid,  I finally remembered I was cooking eggs.

Angry like an exploding egg

 I am the pot

I am the angry boiling pot, trying to keep the lid on, my mouth closed, the words inside.

And by not speaking, nothing changes, and the water continues to boil:  am I a maid? why doesn’t anyone clean up after themselves, the silverware is covered in peanut butter, who left the empty milk carton on the counter? why doesn’t anyone take out the garbage without being asked? are they blind, who left their shoes in the middle of the kitchen floor? …

I don’t speak.  I keep the lid on. I don’t open my mouth.

Fools show their annoyance at once, but the prudent overlook an insult.
Proverbs 12:16

The pot explodes

The fire is still burning, the heat is still on. The words are still in my mouth. The water evaporates. The egg explodes and blows off the lid.  

I explode, and open my mouth. Anger, resentment, frustration. I am a fool.

I close my mouth. I cool down. My words lay all over the floor, stuck to the ceiling, the wall and in my children’s hair.

With soap, tears, I try to clean up the mess I made. But some of the words won’t come off. Some of them are stuck to the skin of my children. I apologize. Ask for forgiveness and pray. Eventually the words wash away in my tears.


And the pot sits empty filling up with tears. Hiding. Embarrassed. Trying to forget the words.

Trying to speak in love; trying to not let the pot overheat. Trying to not be a fool.

Trying to be a healthy pot.

Trying to forgive myself.


Not perfect.



Have you ever been the exploding pot? Please let me know in the comments.

I would love to be a Fellow Exploding Pot Friend In Recovery.  Encouraging each other to speak before the lid flies off.

We could start a private Fellow Exploding Pot Friend In Recovery. The official FEPFIR group. All my best,


Click on the Orange Slice of Life to read more stories. Over two hundred people are sharing slices of life, from their heart, for the March Slice of Life Challenge. Write a slice every day this month.  

About Pamela Hodges

I write slice of life stories to help you know you are loved, valuable and worthy just as you are. I am a writer, an artist, and a cleaner of seven litter boxes. I live in Pennsylvania with one husband, four cats, one dog and two birds.

You are an artist. Yes, you are. Really.

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Get the FREE illustrated, sort of a comic book, “You Are An Artist.” Believe in yourself and your ability to draw. xo Pamela

  • Sue Sutherlin

    Wow . . . are you inside my head? I have thought so many of these exact things. You are a wonderful, loving, amazing, interesting mom/wife who also happens to be human. Your self-awareness is heart-warming, and I wish I lived next door so I could run right over and give you a hug when you are filling the pot with tears (and help you clean up the egg).

  • I wasn’t a boiling pot, last night. I was, however, close. I let off a little steam before that happened. Sometimes, it’s necessary to turn up the heat to get things done: just not too much. No eggs were scraped off the ceiling.

  • La McCoy

    I am glad you do these cooking experiments. We know how they turn out. I can cross them of the list.

    • Oh, yes please La. Please cross the exploding eggs off of your list. Mind you, Martha, did enjoy eating the burnt egg that landed on the floor.

      • La McCoy

        I bet Martha would have enjoyed that egg

  • Krithika Rangarajan

    Aww hun…I ENJOYED this post! I am not very good at keeping my emotions at bay with my husband 😉 (I once broke a glass in my home!), BUT I have been an exploding pot with few others….not a pretty sight, I tell ya

    • Hello Kitto,
      I wonder why our pots tend to explode more often with the ones we love the most. Broken glass is dangerous. I prefer to throw pots.
      Yes, not a pretty sight. May we learn to use our words when the pot starts to boil, so we never have to blow off our lid.

  • Unfortunately I have been the boiling pot. Sometimes I have gone into the car and made sure no one was around and I’ve screamed at the top of my voice. Maybe even twice. I do that so I don’t explode on anyone. But that doesn’t mean people don’t feel my anger. I have seethed anger and seen the results on the faces of those I love. A raised eyebrow can silence others. And even total silence can maim. I know. Once my mom refused to talk to me or acknowledge me for three days when I was about twelve. It caused such emotional pain. And when she died four years later, I was certain she was mad at me.

    The one thing about the exploding pot is that the mess has to be cleaned up. It’s the same when we explode on someone. We can go to them and ask for their forgiveness. I don’t want to be an exploding pot. I don’t believe anyone wants to be, although it looks like they do at the time.

    I want to be a slow steady simmering one, that never over boils.

    Here’s to self-discipline and grace. We can ask God to help us when we feel we are near the boiling point. And we can thank him for his grace when we misjudge.

    Great post, Pamela.

    • Good Morning Anne,
      Oh, you are so right. I don’t always blow the lid off of my boiling pot, but the expression on my face could melt all the snow in Boston.

      I really don’t want to be an exploding pot. I have to learn to speak up when I am frustrated and own my feelings. It is like I think others feelings are more important than mine, so I ignore me until I explode.

      I pray we both can learn to express the truth in love before the anger makes a nasty mess. Yes, we can ask God to help us when we are near the boiling point. And thank him for his Grace.
      So nice to hear your perspective Anne.

  • I wish I could say that I’ve never been the boiling pot. I try not to be one, but sometimes… After my children left the nest, I realized that the house gets just as messy with two people as it did w/ the kids around. I had to consider the awful reality that I contributed as much to the clutter, maybe more, than did my kids.

    • Hello Glenda,
      Oh dear, my children are all still home. I wonder how messy the house will be when they are gone. Then who can I blame? Maybe the four cats and two dogs?
      Trying not to be the boiling pot is what counts. It is so hard to be perfect, it is impossible actually.

  • Robn Patrick

    I used to say that I didn’t hardly ever get angry. It was an emotion that just wasn’t a big deal for me. Why didn’t someone tell me years ago that anger is a part of life?! I don’t think I helped myself or my family by stuffing anger. A few times I did have exploding eggs and we were all so shocked and then the guilt would just descend on me and take over. I think I would much rather join your club and learn to deal with it. Sign me up!

    • Hello Robin,
      You and I might be the only people in the club, but we could share what we know about keeping our lids on. I never knew anger was part of life either. Stuffing anger never works because if the lid is on too tight, it will explode. And it doesn.

  • Yes I’ve exploded my pot before. Usually at infernal devices like hangers, which seem to perennially resist coming out of the closet. My wife laughs at my ongoing battle with hangers. I have a hang up with them (sorry, bad pun). So I try to not explode my pot, or make mean spirited comments to the tea pot, because we all know where they ends!

    • Hello John,
      I can’t image you having trouble with hangers. Perhaps with the kind that come with dry-cleaning. They should be shot.
      And, that was a good pun. It might even make a good cartoon, if you know a cartoonist.
      Yes, don’t explode your pot. You might have to clean up the mess.

  • DA Schuhow

    Oh girl, I hear you! Some things just need to be left unsaid and some things need to be addressed. God give me this wisdom to know the difference!

    • Hello DA Schulow,
      You are so right. That is what I will pray now. The wisdom to know what needs to be said and what needs to be left in my mouth. Exploding eggs are messy.

  • Berdeane Bodley

    Amen to that, we’ve all been there & yes yoga helps, I taught yoga for many years, also taught the breathing technique & meditation, all these things do help, but, sometimes one just must explode…………do forgive yourself though!!!!

    • Hello mother dearest,
      Yes forgiving yourself is a good idea.
      And breathing and yoga do help.
      Love your daughter

  • Teaching Wanderlust

    I am forever losing my patience and exploding AND burning stuff on the stove. I deal with the burning stuff by getting a ricecooker and a slow cooker (I haven’t burnt anything in those YET). I deal with my exploding anger by practicing yoga and meditation periodically and remembering to take deep breaths (this is still in the works)!

    • Hello Teaching Wanderlust,
      My brother and his wife gave us a slow cooker for Christmas. I will have to figure our how to use it. Yoga and meditation sounds like a good idea. Now to take a few deep breaths and finish scrubbing the pot from yesterday.

  • shelsdon

    Oh my goodness, this happened to me today. If only I speak up before the egg splatters everywhere it wouldn’t be such a mess. The imagery you evoked was so powerful. I need to reform my egg splattering, pot exploding ways. Always a work in progress, right? Thanks for speaking to my heart!

    • Hello dearest exploding pot,
      Yes, always a work in progress. Just remember to be kind to yourself and forgive yourself as you clean up the eggs.
      Thank you for your honesty.

  • Linsey Taylor

    Ah, the explosion. I’m familiar with the explosion. After I explode I ALWAYS wonder why I let life’s irratations build up until I explode. Why don’t I address each little thing before they build into a big thing? It’s something I’m working on.

    • Hello Linsey,
      Me too.
      I try and pretend I am not angry. As though anger is something to hide, and not express. When I wait so long, something that could have been said in a quiet voice, ends up loud.