It must run in the family

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.


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!!!!!”

“Oh, CRAP!”

(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.)


Filed under Children, Dot, Goofs, Humor, James

5 responses to “It must run in the family

  1. Oy, I have done that too! Only it was ALL my fault. I was using my mom’s brand-new big Tupperware bowl to make a few loaves of sweet bread for Christmas brunch. I set it in the oven to rise. Awhile later, I decided to make some hash-brown patties to tide us over till brunch at Grandma’s. I turned to oven on to 425.
    Fortunately I smelled the melting plastic before it caught fire. But there went mom’s new bowl and 3 loaves of bread. That was 20 years ago and my family still reminds me every Christmas at the very least!

  2. Melting plastic, never a good thing. I’m noticing a trend in your family! (and I beg you to never try melting the things Little Red did as a wee one. I will never forget that sharpie.)

  3. Heather

    We have a long standing rule in my house dating back about 25 years to my Mom & Dad’s house to always, always, ALWAYS “check for footballs”!!! My brothers had a hide & seek thing going with their nerf football for days. It ended up being hidden in the oven and before it was found by the other my Mom pre-heated the oven. The FUMES!!! The SMOKE!!!! The YELLING!!! Evacuation! The one time my husband didn’t check for “footballs” (and he knew the rule) he preheated a leftover caterpillar shaped cake his mother had made and left with us wrapped in Seran wrap. He had stored it there himself! So my husband will even remind the kids to “check for footballs” now. I guess you guys need to “check for eggs” or come up with some other clever, memorable saying. Glad all turned out OK.

  4. Hey, I tried sending this to you in an email, but apparently I have an old email address:
    “Hey Julia, my name is Rachel and I’m an ANWA member in the Portland, Oregon area. I was looking to see if there were any other ANWA members in the area and found your name on a 2009 roster which said you live in the Newberg area. Are you still in that area? If so, would you be interested in forming a Portland chapter?”
    Thanks! -Rach

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