Kitichen disasters?
My most recent involved bread.
Dad and Stepmom had told us they would be arriving Wednesday (last week), so I decided it would be great to bake a fresh loaf of bread (or two). I got the bread started, and left it to rise while I went to the store for other stuff for our dinner that night.
I'm in line to check out when der B shows up... out of breath. "You forgot to leave the car keys on the shelf!" he finally grumbles. "And your Dad is here!"
A day early.
Well, that's a double oops.
Der B and I hoof it back home, get cleaned up a bit, and get ahold of Dad and Stepmom. A very good evening was had by all.
Until we get home again. The dough is in it's bowl, sulking. "You left me all alone, and now I'm too tired to rise again after you punch me down." And when I did punch it down, it blew a raspberry at me.
The resulting loaves were... well, they loafed. They were dense, and grumpy, and not something I could give my family. Dad and Paulann never did get any bread from me. I threw it out for the birds instead.