Saw this today. Worth a few chuckles. (typed "work a few..." and thought that was a nice slip). Source is adult so on the other blog in a bit.

Today was OK. Got my wedding pics uploaded to Flickr (no link here--my persona here is carefully separate from my real ID), played some X-Box with my husband, reveled in the simple joy of him being home. The trouble was, "I'm hungry, what's for dinner?" I'd thawed something for Pet to make, but she took some benadryl for a bug bite and was asleep. Now, I'm generally handy in the kitchen, but today was NOT my day to be there. First, I went to get some pots and a colander, and there were bugs everywhere--someone had left a bag of oranges out (I always refrigerate the damn things, but the kitchen has been so cluttered of late, I've just not even paid attention to what was on the floor. From there, I decided to tidy up and declutter as much as possible, putting cookies and alcohol on the refrigerator and other things in the cabinets. Then I put the pots on the stove. Oh, yeah, the other day I noticed the whole stove was greasy and wiped it down as best I could--never got wiped down after the beef dish that was made for everyone last week. So I put the pot of hot water on the big burner (you know the one) to make spaghetti for five, and as I am tending to the beef and onions in the other pot (my sauce starter), suddenly I smell a slight burnt odor--and flames flare around the pot of water. I'm trying to turn off burners, call my husband, and get the pot off and get him to grab a lid to smother the flames. So I look at the new microwave rice/pasta cooker and determine that it won't be big enough, so we get the burner cleaned out and start over with the water. Well, as the beef and onions get done and the water almost reaches a boil... CRASH!! A bottle of So-Ju from the top of the fridge crashes across both pots. I scream, the husband is there before I've even finished screaming, his adrenaline flamed up so much that he doesn't notice that he's sprained his ankle jumping up to help me for a full 3-4 minutes. Had to dump the water, which now had bits of all kinds of things in it, and start over for the third time. And try to rescue as much of the beef and onions as I could.

Dinner was pretty damn good, actually. I'm a more-than-passable cook. But things just attack me, my whole life they have, and it seems like spending time in the kitchen with a lot of hot things and a lot of sharp things may just be tempting fate. Also giving people an excuse to make up stories about how I can't cook without burning down the kitchen.