I do not try to hide this "undomesticated tidbit" about myself - it is a pretty well known(and agreed upon)fact that, without pre-packaged frozen foods my small family would have long ago:
a.) died of malnutrition
(I can go days without remembering to cook)
or
b.) died of food poisoning
( accidental, of course)
So, it should come as no surprise that our freezer routinely contains "Smuckers In A Box" or as they are more commonly known Uncrustables™- frozen, crust less sandwiches.
And anyone who knows my kids must also know about the peanut butter fixation and could win fifty bucks easy if I were gullible enough to let you bet that much on which variety
(of grilled cheese or peanut butter)we regularly buy.
What MAY surprise you- and then again not, if you know my four year old- is that my house STILL smells like smoke, some six hours later.
... smoke and peanut butter.
For those uninitiated or beyond the years of packing lunches, let's bring you up to speed...
The general idea of an Uncrustable sam' ich is that, in the time it takes an average brown bag "sammy" to get soggy, the frozen puff of crust less delight will have thawed to a perfectly chilled lunch food-- they are indeed quite delightful, when done right.
However, as I am sure you can all relate, in this day and age, even convenience isn't as convenient as we'd like, and sometimes we like to help things that are considered to be fast by most standards to be even faster by our own set of too-high expectations.
And THAT is why, occasionally, princeCharming has been known to microwave one of those little Uncrustables for 15 seconds or so- the equivalent of a twenty minute thaw at room temp.
So it is understandable that, when he was told to wait for the sandwiches to thaw, Fisher thought he could help things along. He was hungry, after all... really hungry!
And he had seen it done before, after all.
It is even understandable that no one saw him grab the box from the counter top or heard him open the microwave door, since 3 of us were outside, playing in the sprinkler and the other one of is a father...who is allowed to nap-
(see Mother's Handbook for why mom's are not allowed this luxury)
You can't really blame him for what happened next, right? If the state of Georgia doesn't expect him to know his numbers until he's six, how can we hold him responsible for not knowing the difference between 15 seconds and 76 minutes?
It was the smell that brought me in-- the smell that still lingers six hours, two open doors and four open windows later. The Uncrustable never made it past the first minute... there remains a jelly stain from the explosion and the inverted letters from the melted label, forever etched into the base of the microwave.
Perhaps it is time for the Freezer Queen to do some thawing of her own and buy a jar of peanut butter
(the last one we bought had salmonella in it)
Anyone know how to rid the house of the smell of burnt PB&J?
Strike A Match, perhaps?