Fixing dinner

There we were in the middle of another evening as we prepared to make dinner. We were going to have left over Spanish Rice but it had been frozen solid by the 32.4 below temperature the night before, since we put it on the porch in the grill as we often do in the winter. We set the pan on the oven and turned the heat on. We waited, me reading and Missy, one of my four siblings, staring at the pan like it would make it heat up faster.

Well, she came up a little bit later and informed me we had to look for the mysterious beeping that was driving them crazy. I, for one, hadn't heard anything. After lots of coaxing she dragged me from the stairs and my book and we set out on our important quest to find the beeping. We spent the next half hour running up and down stairs and through rooms as we attempted to find the cause of this beep before it drove our parents to insanity. We slammed cupboard doors and drawers and soon located the horrible screeching beep. As we all half expected, well everyone but me, it was a smoke alarm. I still can't figure out how they thought of such a thing. Now that we had spent all that energy on our valiant, or at least sucessful, quest - we needed food. Like right then or we might all have died but the Spanish Rice was still a completely solid chunk of ice.

"Time for plan B," Missy said, "Get me a bowl!" I grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and set it on the counter. "Too small!" she exclaimed. I put it back and got the biggest bowl we owned and set it on the counter where the last one had been. She managed to get the contents of the pan, our beloved and most needed dinner, into the bowl and said, "Nuke it!" So I took the big yellow bowl that was the size of three heads and set it on the counter by the microwave. Turning to our center island I got myself the "Magic opening stick" otherwise know as a fork. Since our microwave door now refuses to open by pushing the button, much to our horror. I stabbed the fork between the door and the dialing pannel and pried it open as I am now an expert at doing. For on horrifying moment I wondered if the bowl would fit but it did. I stuck it in and shut the door. I pushed the Minute Plus button three times with the "Magic Opening Stick" and stood staring at it. Time seemed to take forever. Finally it beeped and we tested the food. Most of it wasn't ice anymore so we put that back in the pan and nuked the rest for longer.

About half an hour later we were bored again and our life saving food still wasn't hot. "Time for plan C," Missy said, "Individual plates in the microwave." "Brilliant!" I replied, now on the verge of giving up ever eating the Spanish Rice and starting to think about my left over glutin free pizza in the refrigerator, "Precisely," she said and I got the plates after battling with the cups that had been stack on top for lack of places to put them. We served up the food and I stuck them in the microwave to get nuked. Singing a song that was probably off tune, or as Rose would put it, I was murdering it. I was quite glad for her absence so she wouldn't inform me again. Rose is the cook but she was ill. I, being my usual self, took advantage of the fork in my hand and decided it was a sword with which I was to stab the beast when I had to take the food out. So, I took up what I thought was a opposing stand and told the beast to stop it's numbers or hurry them up before we all starved in our very own kitchen. The "beast" took no heed, being a microwave, so I flashed my fork and cut myself with the prongs.

This was no new experiance for me since I'd stabbed myself with a fork before and this was just a minor wound compared. I was also quite used to getting injured in the kitchen but was proud to know I'd only cut myself three times while chopping carrots last and twice while cutting potatoes. This was a huge improvement! So, when the beast's numbers had stopped I was still at my post and took the food out before putting in the next plate and stabbing the Minute Plus button. After we had heated up all the plates we put Mom's on a shell and added cheese because it's like a crime not to! Then we hauled the plates out and I gave Mom hers and told her what it was, "Beast in a shell." Or so it had become.