"Momma," Daughter 1 said, "Can I cook dinner tonight?"
She did not have to ask me twice. I nodded my approval, set my butt in the recliner and began watching Duck Dynasty online.
No way it was really that easy, though.
Daughter 1 wanted to make Bacon and Potato Soup. That morning before we left for school, I double checked and we had everything we needed, so that night as we came in from school. Before I picked up Daughter 2, I got her started. We sliced the bacon and got it crisping on low. I instructed her to start washing and chopping potatoes while I ran to get Daughter 2.
Five minutes. That's how long I was gone: Five minutes. Daughter 2 and I pulled into the driveway to find Daughter 1 pacing in the garage.
"The bacon," Daughter 1 whined.
"The bacon?" I questioned.
"All I did was try to cook it faster," she confessed, "So I turned the fire up."
"Ahhh ... ," I nodded, "is it burned?"
"I don't know," Daughter 1 fretted, "It was too smoky when I ran out here. So, I'd say it's probably burned by now."
That night, we had Blackened Bacon and Potato Soup.
The good news is that we didn't have to call the fire department. The bad news is that my daughter doesn't want to cook dinner anymore. Wait ... I'm not sure that's totally bad.
