My parenting style may be described as benign neglect. Or, as I like to think of it: Preparing the Kids for Real Life.
I tend to think that good moms make a nutritious well-balanced lunch for their children each day, using homemade bread and organic produce . I wish I were that good mom. But I am not.
My twelve-year old son left the recliner where he’d been viewing “Dog the Bounty Hunter.” As he passed the computer chair where I sat working, he said, “Mom, thank you for neglecting me. Now I will cook my own lunch.”
I replied, “You are a bad person.”
So, that explains why he was in the kitchen. He is neglected. But resourceful. See how beautifully this is working out?
He decided to scramble some eggs. So I double-checked to make sure our eggs weren’t on the recall list and he and his 7-year old sister began cracking eggs. He added pepper to the pan and some bacon bits and some cheese. “What temperature should this be on?” he asked and I told him medium.
Some time later, he’d gone into the back yard to check on something and I wandered into the kitchen (probably for more Diet Coke) and I noticed the eggs looked awfully runny.
That is because he’d turned on the back burner but the pan was on the front burner.
A big glass mixing bowl was on the back burner. I’d put it there after washing it the night before so it could dry. Someone had perched a large pot (also clean) on top of the glass bowl. And both of these items were quite warm since they’d been sitting on a heated burner for awhile.
I turned on the front burner and turned off the back burner. Then I moved the pot. I used a potholder to carefully move the hot mixing bowl to the other back burner. I stepped a few feet back toward the sink, hurrying to I could get back to work.
And then I heard an explosion.
On the stove, the bowl had completely exploded. It looked like a large quantity of giant diamonds had been dumped on the stove top. It looked like the ice covering a pond in the winter after children stomp on it. It looked like the aftermath of a windshield following a collision. It looked like a disaster.
I stood and stared and felt my arms to make sure they were free of embedded glass. Most of it stayed on the stove, but there were shards on the floor and on my daughter’s little table and on the counter and in the pan of eggs.
Then I swept. And vacuumed. I had to leave the sparkling glass bits on the stove until they cooled.
My son was quite impressed by this unintended science experiment. He informed me that the bowl would not have exploded if I’d left it on the hot burner. So it was my fault.
Also? If I’d been a good mom and just made a homemade nutritious lunch in the first place, none of this would have happened. But then my son would be utterly unprepared for Real Life and I would have nothing to blog about. So, there’s that.