I treated myself to an evening of domesticity and, inspired by a sister who rearranges her furniture every three days (and it still looks good), I decided it was time to pick up my house. I put a tray of Bonnie's mammoth lasagna in the oven and then hit the living room to be Marvin Stewart, kin to Martha. It took me an hour of trying to be like Cynde when I realized I could only have my living room one way and then the buzzer went off. My Chef-Boy-R-Dee was done.
Thankful for a prepared meal, I took a break and grabbed a mitt to go after my grub.
Not that easy. It was hot and the tray burned my hand through the mitt. I dropped the entire pan into the stove: cheese and sauce oozed everywhere, sizzling against the hot iron. I wanted to scream, but I got a giant spoon and began scooping and salvaged 90% of the meal. I looked to my living room and realized I had simply moved all my crap to the kitchen. Now, I had a clean living area but my kitchen was a disaster.
So, I sat in my clean living room and ate a plate of Bonnie's lasagna. It put a smile in my stomach and I realized karma comes from any food prepared by another person. Every holiday, from now on, I will recall 2010 and the world's largest vat of lasagna ever created.