My daughter's at a fashion show. Her dog is sleeping near my feet, and Jason Mraz just finished singing. Life is grand.
All except the burnt bagel. It was burning so much it was on fire in the oven while I was on Facebook. YIKES! My last bagel. I had been drooling over the thought of it dripping with butter in my mouth. Instead it got flung from the oven and into a pan of water.
If you're wondering why I don't put it in a toaster, it's because I only buy the really fat bagels. The really, really fat ones. They're so fat that they've filled their holes with dough. It was an Everything bagel. It was everything to me at the time. And now it's black in the trash. Black and charred and ashy. I can't even look near the trash. It's a bagel cemetery. May it rest in peace. It didn't deserve to die that way. I apologize profusely for neglecting it. Its last act on earth was one of fire in the oven. Think about it. It was once just flour, water, sugar, and God only knows what else, and then it grew up to be an oven explosive. How's that for alchemy? I can turn a bagel into fire. I must be an alchemist. So what if it's not gold. Fire can be just as valuable on a cold night or when needing to cook something when you're starving. C'mon, I'm a miracle worker. It may not have been loaves and fishes, but it was fire.
Well now, my bagel was sacrificed for a great cause. It gave me a chance to see who I really am. If I can turn a bagel into fire, what else can I do?
Oh, and another thing -- it never set off the smoke detectors. How cool is that?