Today was a roller coaster.
As some of you know, I am not having a meal plan this semester. We are almost to midterms and I haven’t starved yet! In fact quite the opposite has happened…
Anyways, I always brag about my domestic skills. I am as much as a feminist as the next modern young female, but who wouldn’t be proud of their scrambled egg skills?
This morning, I made myself some delicious scrambled eggs with ham and cheese (a very un-vegan meal.) I read the paper and laughed at the comics. I checked out the sales at Hy-Vee, Baker’s and No Frills. Nothing out of the ordinary. When lunchtime rolled around, my roommate Josie and I decided to have a breakfast lunch-stravaganza. She made banana bread; I was put in charge of the french toast. Mind you, I have been to France a time or two, so that makes me the in-house french toast expert.
Everything was going according to plan. The banana bread was cooking in the oven; the egg and milk mixture was ready. Then fate happened. I decided to put the french toast pan on the burner with some gunk in it. Don’t ask why I committed this slight of judgement. After much pondering, I still haven’t figured it out. At my liberal arts university, I learned about the greek term hamartia, which means ‘to miss the mark,’ which is translated today as tragic flaw. This pan placement was the hamartia to my Sunday morning.
The french toast smelled delicious. Josie and I, still in our pajamas, were too busy admiring the new furniture arrangement to notice the smoke coming from the burner. (If you ask my roommate Katie, she would probably say that the smoke was ‘billowing’, but I believe that is a gross over-exaggeration.)
All of a sudden, the smoke detector went off. It started screeching, and calamity ensued. I can only do my best to paint the scene for you:
Amanda: OHMIGAWSH WHATS GOING ON
Katie: It’s the smoke detector!
(Josie turns off the stove and stares at Katie. Amanda begins to run to her room to get shoes.)
Katie: Get some fans!
Amanda and Josie: Huh? What’s going on?
Katie: GET SOME FANS NOW ITS NOT THE ALARM JUST THE DETECTOR
(Amanda and Josie finally comprehend Katie. They run to their rooms to get fans.)
Amanda: HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?
Josie: HOW DO I MAKE MY FAN STOP OSCILLATING?
Katie: POINT THEM AT THE SMOKE DETECTOR
Amanda: GUYS I DIDN’T BURN THE FRENCH TOAST I PROMISE
(Katie opens the door and all the windows. Amanda stands in shock in the kitchen, looking at her breakfast lunch-stravaganza plans going awry before her eyes. Josie is still attempting to make her fan stop oscillating.)
Amanda: NO, REALLY, I DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED I’M SUPER DOMESTIC I PROMISE I MEAN ITS NO BIG DEAL JUST A LITTLE SMOKE THEY DIDN’T HAVE SMOKE DETECTORS IN THE OLD DAYS AND THEY WERE JUST FINE WHATS GOING ON I JUST REALLY WANTED TO COOK LUNCH
Katie and Josie: SHUT UP AMANDA
(Chaos ensues. The smoke detector finally stops its hissy fit of high-pitched screams.)
However, that is not actually the end of the story. Five minutes later, when Josie, Katie and I are still scrambling around in a chaotic scene, a public safety officer approaches the door. Please remember, Josie and I are still in our pajamas. We told him that I burned some french toast. He chuckled and commented that it smelled delicious. We then proceeded to laugh for the next two hours.
Katie has now told me that I am not allowed to cook unattended anymore.
I guess that means I’m going to be eating a lot more Rice Krispies and raisins.