Well, we had a pretty funny experience the other night. Jason decided he would take care of dinner. "Great!, I thought." He kept it simple, which we were all fine with, and picked up pizza of the 'take-and-bake' variety.
Somewhere during cooking it, he opened the oven to check on it, and smoke came billowing out, BIG time! The pizza wasn't burnt, he didn't know what was wrong, and since it wasn't done yet, it had to go back in, to complicate the problem. Stuff had spilled off the edges to fry below. More than once, including just as we were sitting down at the table to eat, the smoke alarms sounded, the kids covered their ears and went running, sure there was an actual fire, (at one point they were all out on the screen porch, in the subzero temps). Jason and I would each get a towel and fan underneath the alarm to make it stop.
In the middle of it all, my blogger brain yelled for Ben to go get the camera. I thought the whole thing was very funny. Afterwards, just as we were sitting to eat, again, Ben said, "I think mom should do the cooking from now on." We all cracked up, but silently I thought "oh, great, can't a momma get a break?"
