Oh, dear. I fear The Pony is being overtaxed by his supervising teacher in his tutoring capacity!
On the first day of summer school, you know, The Pony was sent out at the 11th hour to retrieve a lost jacket. AND HE FOUND IT! Not on the playground where it was left, but on the first grade hall, where it had been deposited.
So...yesterday, a jacket again came up missing. The Pony was dispatched at the 11:59th hour. Unfortunately, he could not pull this jacket rabbit out of his hat.
Today, The Pony had to make muffins!
Okay. So The Pony didn't so much MAKE the muffins as bake the muffins.
"I can't believe she had you make muffins! Did you tell her you're not allowed to do that at home?"
"No. Actually, the kindergarteners MADE the muffins. We used packets of muffin mix, and two whole school milk cartons. They mixed it up, and I went to bake them. I burned my hand."
"WHAT? Did you tell her? Is it bad?"
"No. It's not third degree. Third degree is when it's scarred--"
"Third degree is when it's CHARRED! Black!"
"No. Scarred. It's not. But I think I'm going to have a blister there tomorrow. There's a bubble on the end of my finger. The muffins were kind of dark, but the kids and Mrs. Blank all said they were good. I didn't eat one."
"How did you burn your finger?"
"Well, when I went up there, the oven was off. So I turned it on to preheat like the package said. I was supposed to cook them for 14-17 minutes. But Mrs. Blank said one of those two ovens doesn't work right, and it takes twice as long. So I waited until the preheat light came on, and put them in--"
"WAIT! You don't put them in until the preheat light goes OFF!"
"No. It was OFF when I went in there."
"Somebody else was preheating the oven?"
"Nooo...Nobody was there. The oven was cold. I turned it on to preheat, and when the light came on, I put in the muffins."
"But the preheat light goes OFF when it's hot enough to cook!"
"I don't know why you keep saying that. This oven is different. The light comes ON when it's ready. So I put the muffins in there. I waited 17 minutes. I took them out. They weren't done. So I put them back. They cooked for a half hour or maybe 35 minutes. Then they were a little dark."
"So how did you burn your hand?"
"There were no oven mitts anywhere in that room. So I had to pull them out with my hands. But I used a towel, only the heat went right through it and still burned my hand."
"Did the towel happen to be wet?"
"Yes! How did you know that?"
"Because heat goes really fast through a wet towel. Why was it wet. Did you wet it?"
"I had to."
"Why? So it wouldn't burst into flames?"
"No. When I took the muffins out the first time, they weren't done. And the batter splashed on the pan. So I had to wipe it off with a towel. So then I had to wash the towel in the sink because I messed it up. I used the towel to carry the pan of muffins back to class, but even after letting it cool, it still burned my hand through the towel by the time I got it there."
"Aww...you poor thing."
Seriously. Don't you feel bad for The Pony? He valiantly tried to perform a life skill for which he was not prepared, and he injured himself in the process, my noble little steed. He walked all the way from those kindergarten rooms in Newmentia to the old rock building that used to be the middle school, and down into the basement, on the far end, where I once shared a classroom, to get to those ovens. And the reverse on the return trip. While carrying a hot muffin pan.
I'm really kind of proud of him. The school is still standing.
2 comments:
Have you seen the Muffin Boy, the Muffin Boy, the Muffin Boy?
Have you seen the Muffin Boy, he has a handsome mane.
Sioux,
I see what you did there! Kudos to you, Madam, on a job well-did.
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