Why I Don't Cook

I made calzones. From scratch. With flour. It was one of the few times in my life I've actually used flour for something and not a boxed mix. I used a package of yeast to make the dough nice and doughy and I even let it rise overnight. The next night I was preparing the innards for the calzones with my mom and Avery in the kitchen over a period of about 30 minutes. Avery was toddling around at our feet minding her own business as we minded ours. We weren't paying too much attention to her because she's pretty self-sufficient these days and is usually so busy taking care of her Baby Katie that she doesn't do anything else. That night was different. We were browning the sausage when we looked down and found Avery walking away with a large box of Cascade. Yikes! We stopped her in her tracks, giggled to ourselves about our poor babysitting skills and went back to cooking. We were mixing the cheeses when from around the corner came Avery with a large jar of Miracle Grow tucked casually under her arm like a football. Again, we stopped her, chastised ourselves and moved on. Not five minutes later Avery had a scrub brush on a stick and was really scrubbing on the breaker box with the door to it wide open. She was on a mission to clean that thing right up. Not sure who installs a breaker box that low but at my parents' house it's right at Avery's eye level and it must have been dirty. We realized that in order to get dinner on the table at a decent hour we needed backup so we yelled for Pops. He was on his way down the hall to hang out with Avery when he said, completely seriously, "Who put the golf tee in the electrical outlet?!" Oops.