Burning the pot

The literary community of readers, writers and editors shares occupational hazards.
I will share mine as they occur.
#1 is burning the saucepan.
I was boiling son Kevin’s noodles for when he and  Trish come home for lunch.
Formatting our anthology Can you believe it... in the computer room, the plan was to return to the noodles  in a few minutes.
The acrid smell of a burnt saucepan screamed “fail”.
A sad reflection on me and other literary addicts is the first words I uttered were: “Not again”.
For the sake of sitting by the stove for three minutes, I had to
1. throw out the noodles.
2. scrub the pot unsuccessfully.
3. Soak it in vinegar and try again.
4.  Hope the smell of a burnt saucepan is gone by the time my wife gets home.
5. Buy baking soda and lemons to have ready as reltable cleaners for next time.

The saddest part is I know I have not learned my lesson. I have just earned another merit badge of (dis)honour for the love of books.

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