I decide to cook more waffles as a delightful after-work snack. Mo wants me to use the toaster.
I point out that they have to cook 10 minutes or I will die. She notes she has made them for me in the toaster before and I did not die. She does not specify whether this is a good thing.
I cannot be swayed. I throw them into the oven, hit the start switch on the faithful Timex and wait.
After six minutes Mo gets annoyed at the burning smell coming from the kitchen.
After eight minutes she takes them out of the oven just because they have burst into flames.
I point out that the charcoal flavor adds a zest to the taste. A bonus: BK, who normally is a mooch, goes into the other room to hide. Food snob.
If this is my last post, you’ll know that those last two minutes of cooking were essential after all. Or that Mo killed me for filling the apartment with smoke.
In either case it was worth it. Those are mighty tasty waffles …