So, the picture is a melodramatic interpretation of what happened here, but it involved a microwave, and it involved me failing to pay attention!

Let’s explain. At this point in time I was still living with my parents, and one evening, after they had retired to bed, I was playing video games when I decided I was hungry. I have a fondness for wheat biscuits with hot milk (they’re a bit meh with cold milk if you ask me). To achieve the peak combo of hot milk versus wheat biscuit, I tend to place a trio of the biscuits in a bowl, pour milk over them, and then place the bowl in the microwave. On my parents’ old microwave, the magic number to achieve the perfect outcome was one minute and ten seconds.

So, I program the microwave, set it on its way, and resume my gaming for a minute or two. I merrily play, whilst listening for the ping of the microwave. I become somewhat absorbed in my activity, and it takes me a few minutes to realise that the microwave is still going. In a panic, I check the microwave, and see an angry, bubbling volcano of wheat biscuits and milk, boiling over. I’d set the timer for eleven minutes by mistake!

Beyond this mishap, I can’t claim to have had many food disasters in my time. I once nearly set my face on fire, again at my parents’ house, when using the gas grill to cook some bacon. For reasons that escape me, I paused between turning on the gas and igniting it, and was treated to a whoosh of flame when I pressed the igniter. It’s a good thing we have an electric oven in my house!