We all have them. A time where you get the decency to cook, and then end up making a glorious meal, or a glorious mess. However, the story I will tell you, I didn’t even cook.
It was June. My sister had invited her friend over, and my parents were out they on a walk. My parents had asked me to preheat the oven, for the barbecue they had picked up earlier that day. “Easy” I thought. I preheated the oven, and went up stairs because nothing bad should have happened. I was wrong… very wrong. While I was upstairs I started to smell smoke. I come downstairs to find the oven smoking, and I start freaking out. I turn the oven off, and open it, to find that the food was in the oven. I then take a closer look and see this white stuff melted on the bottom of the oven. Seeing as though I was a freshman, I start screaming at the top of my lungs,”I MELTED THE BONES”. I would later find out that the oven would’ve had to be 2517.8 degrees Fahrenheit to melt bone. Anyways, I open up all the windows and doors, and fanned the fire alarm (while I am still screaming). My sister came home with her friend and laughed at me while helping me fan. It would later turn out that the white stuff was the Styrofoam from the takeout boxes. This is why I always open the oven before putting things in it.