Monday Writing Prompt #1

Just joining in with those over at Absolutely Bananas. AB posts a writing prompt each weekend, with hopes that others will jump in and write for their Monday posts. I've got a doozy for you today.

My worst cooking catastrophes ...well, not necessarily COOKING catastrophes, but catastrophe in general... happen when I'm pregnant.

In 1999, when I was pregnant with Alex, I was part of a ladies' Bible study with some friends from the base. We met over at the neighborhood community center once a week, and would spend a couple of hours going over our book and discussing Scripture, while the children played in the next room over.

Before I would walk with Kate in the stroller, over to the community center, I would usually prepare our lunch, so that it was ready for us to eat and then have a nice rest time shortly after our return. I wanted us to have egg salad sandwiches this particular day, so set the eggs on to boil while we finished getting ready for the morning's study. (yeah, you probably see where this is going...)

We left for the study and enjoyed our time there, and returned to the house about 2 1/2 or 3 hours later. Opened the front door to be greeted by a smell that was so horrendous, I couldn't believe it. Left Kate on the porch to go in and find out what the burning stench was, as I didn't want her to be IN the house if something was burning and I needed to put it out with the fire extinguisher.

I hit the kitchen, covering my nose and mouth. Realized by the black smatter on the walls and ceiling what the stench was. My eggs. My eggs that had boiled dry in the pan and exploded all over the kitchen. Turned the stovetop off, tossed the poor pitiful pan in the sink, ran warm water around and in it, and opened the windows of the downstairs, as well as the back doors to air as much as possible.

No fire, thankfully. But the stench and the splatter of the three eggs that exploded were there for a good two weeks. There was no cleaner that would take the black off of the painted walls and ceiling. It finally released a bit and I forgot about it.

Just like I forgot about the eggs on the stove that were boiling....three weeks later. Again.

Yep, twice in one month. Hubby bought me a timer that I could clip onto my waistband and carry with me everywhere, so that I had a clue that there was something I needed to care for in the kitchen.

So, that would be my WORST cooking catastrophe. There are others, of course, but certainly the worst... I can still smell the stench.