All my crazy adventures started early on in my life. I bring to the table bright, shining memories of the crazy that is Karin’s life.
My parents went out for dinner every Thursday night. This was common knowledge, and once my brothers were old enough to be left at home alone, we no longer required a babysitter. One evening, the three of us decided it would be a great idea to make a cake for our parents. I know what you’re thinking. Awwwww, how cute!
A THOUSAND TIMES! NO!
This was a terrible idea! Why? Because there were three of us. And we were related by BLOOD. This is not a good mixture.
The making of the batter went off without a hitch. It was from a box, all of us were at reading age. Only 2 eggs were wasted, so that could have been considered a win. The only issue was the daunting task of figuring out the oven. I was eight. My brothers were twelve and fourteen. What kind of fourteen year old doesn’t know how to use a fucking oven? Jason. So Sean (brother #2) stepped up, claiming he was completely the oven master and promptly started pushing the buttons, the oven red light went on, we were all impressed and the cake went in.
Approximately fifteen minutes later, I smelled something.
“Uh… guys? Do you smell that?”
“No, it’s fine. Just watch the TV”
*five more minutes pass*
“Uh… guys? It smells like something’s burning…”
“NOTHING IS BURNING! WATCH THE TV!”
“Ok, is the oven supposed to smoke like that?”
At this point, we all run to the oven and lo and behold, the cake is on fire. Not just a tiny little fire, no. The whole fucking thing is flaming. And the oven door is locked. And the smoke is coming out.
“Shit shit shit shit!!!” – Sean
“If you know how to use the oven why is the cake on fire?” – Jason
**I’ve picked up the phone at this time and called our neighbour, Mr.B**
“Uh, Hi Mr.B… Yes, it’s me. Um, do you happen to have a fire extinguisher? For no particular reason… Oh good… Can Jason come get it right now? NO DON’T COME OVER!!!!!”
Of course, with an awesome call like that from your best friend’s daughter (who was sobbing at the time, as I was convinced the whole world was going to catch fire and die from the cake flames), who wouldn’t rush over with a fire extinguisher and extra people to put out the flames????
NO ONE. THAT’S WHO! Of course 2 min after I hung up the phone, 3 of the B family members are at the door, ready to help put out the fire that has potentially engulfed our house. It was still contained in the oven.
After much button pushing (proper button pushing!) Mrs.B gets the oven open and the cake is taken out.
“So… why would you bake a cake on the auto-clean setting?” – Mrs.B
Not only were 2 eggs and a potentially delicious cake lost in this tragic story, but so was a knife as Sean wanted to see if the cake was still “good” under the crispy layer. No the cake was not good under there. It ate the blade of the knife and didn’t let go. A tea towel was also lost, with the attempt of putting out the fire and it succumbing to the flames.
A few hours later (and a new baked-at-the-B’s-house cake provided) my parents come home none the wiser. We love you Mom and Dad, please ignore the chunk of charcoal in the cake pan with a knife sticking out of it. This other cake was made with love. And less auto clean.