I work swing shift at the hospital.
I leave mid-afternoon and their dad doesn’t get home until dinner time, so I would always leave simple dinner instructions for the boys. I try to make it easy on them. It’s only two weeknight dinners and they can handle putting something in the oven or checking the crockpot at a certain time. They’re 14 and 16. They should have been able to do this, right? Usually yes, but this particular day in 2016 was questionable. ME, leaving for work, 2:15 pm: “Put the chicken pot pie in the oven at 4:00 so you have time to eat before karate. Be sure to TAKE IT OUT OF THE PLASTIC CONTAINER and put it on a cookie sheet.” THEM: “We KNOW Mom. (*eyeroll*) We will.”
Photo texted to me by my husband at 6 pm:
Apparently, D1 had told Dad “I smell something burning”, and this is what they found. D1 is adamant that his brother is the one responsible. D2 hasn’t denied it. The ensuing Facebook conversation between our son-in-law and D1 WAS pretty funny though, as his literal Autistic thought process showed itself.
Once the plastic cooled it came right off the pan.
