An embarrassing new low occurred while I was boiling some eggs for Melissa. They are one of the few foods that meet my definition of "quick," Melissa's definition of "tasty," and Rachel's definition of "healthy." Melissa eats a lot of hard boiled eggs for breakfast, is what I'm saying.
So I put them on to boil. And then I went back to fixing my bug, until bang! this egg here exploded, knocking the lid off the pot and landing on the floor. The rest of the eggs were all charred and blackened; all the water had boiled off long ago.
Rachel is still miffed about the charification on her pot, but I have two words to that: beef soup. She knows what I mean.
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