Honeybun is off at a meeting for work. Really I think it's more like fun time with friends but he begs to differ. Me, I'm at home putting Jack to bed wishing for a Diet Coke, fried chicken and french fries but settling for a frozen pizza and water with the hopes of brownies and ice cream for dessert.
I made the batter for the brownies while I waited for the oven to preheat for the frozen pizza. Ding Ding, the oven is ready for my masterpiece. (I don't just put the pizza in the oven. I arrange the pepperonis artfully and add pizza cheese. It's a sickness, I know.) Ten minutes later my dinner is ready to come out of the oven. I grab the tongs and the cardboard disc the pizza came on ready to rescue it before it crosses over from perfect crunchiness to burnt to a crisp. Somewhere within the next twenty seconds something goes horribly array. I burn my arm which leads to me dropping my pizza down the side of the oven. Slow motion... Ouch, Oh crap... NOOO!!! (Literally there is nothing else to eat in this house. You know if we don't have any DC we don't have any groceries.)
So I did what any self respecting girl would do- took pictures of the debacle for prosperity's sake and called Domino's (who were on it tonight- 20 minutes from telephone to my front door. What what!) and not only ordered pizza, but a 2 liter of the good stuff, stuck a straw in it and drowned my sorrows.
The burnt arm. You have no idea how hard it is to take a picture of your own forearm until you've tried it. I might be a little over dramatic, but I think it will be worse in the morning.
The oven after I cleaned it up a bit.
And finally the pizza that could have been.
P.S. You might be asking whatever came of the brownies- well only time will tell. I cleaned up the oven enough to bake them. My fingers are crossed. I hope yours are too.
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