Just call me Mr. Chef

Most of my family knows that I like to cook. Cooking is, for the most part, a national past time in my household. Both my mom and dad are great cooks who have signature dishes that are repeatedly requested by family and friends. Growing up normal kids would whip up mac n’ cheese, while I cooked french toast and no bake cookies. I guess the gene had passed on to me. Of course, anyone can be a decent cook just by following the recipe, at least this is what I thought until I met Lauren.

Last night I was at my computer with Josh working through some client work that is due this Friday when I smelled something burning. I turned to Josh and asked if he smelled the burning as well – he did. I then yelled out to the kitchen about the burning smell, which Lauren apprently didn’t hear over the droning of the A/C. I figured she had it under control and the burning soon ceased.

When Josh was leaving Lauren asked if we had smelled the burning smell coming from the kitchen. We had. She then informed us that she had burned Jell-O.

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