That would be an hour and a half.
I went out last night with the girls for dinner and some serious girl talk, which we haven't done in ages. I got home probably about 12:30 or so and was immediately struck by this horrible smell in the house. I tentatively walked into the kitchen and at first everything looked sort of okay, but also sort of off....then, as I looked closer, I see small unidentifiable yellows bits all over everything. The stove, the floor, the counter, the ceiling - basically from one end of the kitchen to the other and (as I found today) even into the living room.. It wasn't until I looked in the sink and saw the burned carcass of a pot with charred black bits all over it that I started to figure out what might be happened. There had obviously been some kitchen catastrophe of which Eric had attempted to clear away, albeit half-heartedly.
To answer the next obvious questions of what, how and why, I needed to locate my husband who was lurking downstairs on this computer, and looking quite sheepish when I walked in. Yes, he put on eggs to boil for his next morning's breakfast and then went to put Kieran to bed, fell asleep himself and woke up an hour and half later to the sound of eggs exploding like firecrackers all over the house. Trust me, I'm not sure what was worse... the smell of burned eggs or the process of chipping burned yolk of the ceiling.
Breakfast is ready!
4 comments:
it was an accident!!
Ok, that is hilarious. A couple of weeks ago Greg asked me to put a couple of eggs on to boil as he was going to make Alex an egg sandwich for his lunch. Of course, he forgot that I did that for him. Sure enough, about 1 1/2 hours later POP POP and eggs all over the kitchen and one really burnt pot. It must be a male thing.
Fortunately, this will NEVER happen to me, because my husband rarely goes near the stove - whether to cook on it, clean it, or warm his butt by it. However, in the boys' defense, I, too, have my own "egg-astrophes", but I'm much older and can put it down to senility caused by having many children.
Oh, my. That sounds like the kind of surprise mess that would make me cry.
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