Carcinogenic

(cough, cough)

Yesterday afternoon, I put chicken breasts in the oven, put potatoes on to boil, set a timer for Charming, whom I thought might snooze in his chair (after getting up at 4 am for work), and took off with Blackeyed Susan to ballet. My plan was to drop her off, get gasoline, pick up my reserved books at the library, then go home to a lovely supper. Then take Alvin Fernald to Upwards basketball practice, pick Susan up from ballet, back to pick Alvin up, then home so Susan could have the lovely, warmed-over supper.

I got home an hour and five minutes after leaving (the first time), only there was no lovely supper waiting. Poor Charming was snoozing, the burner under the potatoes was happily singing away, but...there was no water left. I snapped up the pan to put it under the faucet.

(cough, cough)

Eeuuww. You know that "never should have opened the lid" thing that happens when a couple of pieces of popcorn burn? Yuck. So I took it outside. Too late. The kitchen smelled like some three-pack-a-day smoker lived there. Somebody that sounds like Roz from Monsters, Inc.--"I'm watchin' you, Wazowski, always watchin'..."

The chicken was not burned, but definitely not too desirable. Quite dry, so Charming and Alvin and I went OUT to eat. When we got home (after practice) the house still had the smell of a lifetime smoker in it. Is that fair? You burn one thing, and ruin your happy home?

Of course, potatoes are insidious that way. Does anything smell quite like "de-comp" (yeah, we watch CSI here...) like rotten potatoes? I wonder if there is a spiritual lesson in potatoes?

(cough, cough)

So, now what? At nine degrees, it's not too easy to throw open all the windows in the house. Ooh, I have an idea. Mask The Odor. Oh, not with any of those *products.* I'm thinking that chocolate chip cookies might do the trick.

While they're baking, I'll get started on that Unit Study on the Carcinogenic Components of Smoke...