I hate cooking. Period.
I just don't like it.
But my least favorite meal to cook is lunch. I don't know why it crawls all over me, but I just hate it. Perhaps it is because it messes up just enough dishes to irritate me, but not enough to make me feel truly productive in the kitchen. If it were up to me, lunch wouldn't even happen. But, the rascals' stomachs disagree with my philosophy, so, therefore, I succumb to the evilness that is lunch making. Ick.
Unless, of course, I can coerce an older rascal to make lunch for me.
The boys are still not skilled with the usage of the stove, but mastery of the microwave has been perfected. And I take full advantage of their abilities more often than I care to admit.
Today I inquired of lunch making assistance and became vastly aware of why warning labels are still placed on appliances and children.
Sawyer was the chef of the day today, and he made fast work of heating up a mountain of fish sticks for his brothers. He, though, wasn't feeling the fish stick love and was crushing on the Easy Mac that was perched high up on the cabinet shelf.
I quickly walked Sawyer through the VERY simple directions, feeling very proud of myself for having passed yet another lunch torch to the younger generation. Now I don't even have to stop what I'm doing to make mac-n-cheese......utopia, for sure.
Sawyer scarfed down his first bowl of mac and came to find me to ask if he could make another bowl.
Me: Do you remember how?
Me: Are you sure?
Me: Well, then have at it.
And then I grinned smugly to myself. This was amazing. We were now a blue box self-sufficient family. Suhweet.
And then I smelled it.
A strange mixture of burnt popcorn/campfire/tar/skunk.
I ran in the kitchen and asked the obvious: "Is something burning?"
Sawyer: Uh. I think so.
Genius. My son.
There. Inside the microwave was a bowl being licked with flames. I punched the microwave door open just in time for a cloud of black smoke to come barreling out that tasted like it smelled.
When my eyesight returned, I reached in and delivered this:
Yup. That's it.
Minus THE WATER THAT HE WAS SUPPOSED TO ADD.
And there he is. Chef Boyardee himself.
Whose response to the whole fiasco was: "Accident."