A long time ago, when I was but a wee little lass, my big sister, Heidi, melted one of those plastic cake/jello pans in the oven.
In her defense, she didn’t know it was in there when she turned the oven on. At least, I don’t think she did. Heidi? (She’ll correct me if I’m wrong, believe me! :-D) I don’t remember why it was in there. I just remember copious amounts of baking soda being flung all over the kitchen when it was found.
If there had been Christmas music playing (and something wasn’t on fire) we probably would have started shouting,
“It’s snowing! It’s snowing.”
But, no one did, because we didn’t want to go up in flames. The fire was quickly estinguished and who knows what happened to the rack and the oven. I was too little. I probably scampered out to the barn after all the excitement was over to avoid being roped into the clean-up.
So, today is Dot’s birthday.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DOT!!
She decided to make us all eggs on her birthday. She cooked them herself and made orange juice and brought mine to me in bed (because I was REALLY slow waking up this morning – ok, well it was only 6:30 at that point, but still I was half an hour late waking up). I grinned at her, wished her a happy birthday, scarfed my eggs down and went to hang out with the family. The boys were still in bed and the girls were just finishing eating.
We chased Lizard out the door for school and greeted a sleepy-eyed, stumbling Jacob who plopped down at the table. Dot promptly delivered his breakfast. Maybe if I had been paying closer attention I would have noticed where she got his breakfast from, but, I wasn’t.
I decided to be extremely efficient. I was going to get that cake baked right away and run to the store, all before my three elementary kids went to school and Dad took off to work. So, I flipped on the oven to preheat and went happily about mixing cake batter as Dot giggled and peeked around me.
I was just about ready to pour the batter into the pan and fling it in the oven (and feeling very proud of my efficient-ness), when James came downstairs.
“Where’s his breakfast?” Dot asked me.
I was thoroughly confused, staring at the empty frying pan that had obviously cooked eggs this morning. “Ummm. I have no idea.” (I swear, I did not eat the eggs.) I was on the verge of questioning my sanity when Dot began freaking out. I quelled her with a look. “I don’t know where the eggs are, Dot. I didn’t eat them. No one ate them. There are no eggs.” I pointed to the pan in emphasis, but her wild gesticulations just became wilder.
She frantically waved her hand in the direction of the oven. “THEY’RE IN THERE!!!!!”
(unfortunately, as much as I really hate to admit it, I did use that word)
I yanked the oven door open and there, partially melted and just beginning to drip onto the bottom of the oven, was a green plastic plate holding James’s eggs. Poor eggs. Poor plate. POOR OVEN!! YIKES!
“Why didn’t any one tell me?” I cry as Dot goes racing upstairs crying (poor Dot) and Paul comes racing downstairs.
He looks at my disaster. “Oh, shoot. Sorry about that. I told her to put them in there. Maybe next time we’ll stick them in the microwave to keep them warm. Might be a better idea.”
“Ya think?” 😛
Anyway, he was able to nimbly clean up the melting plate, nothing was ruined (except the plate… and the eggs – I didn’t think plastic coated eggs would be too good for James’s digestion)- heck! I didn’t even catch anything on fire (take that plastic oven disaster!), Dot was comforted and cheered up and we assured her it wasn’t her fault, and I was still able to get to the store and back before the little people left for school.
Moral of the story?
Don’t put plastic stuff in the oven….
(oh, and it might not be a bad idea to look and see what’s in there before you turn the thing on.)