Friday Night Tacos
Now, let me start by saying, that my step mom, Maria, isn’t the best chef in the world.
But one night, when I was just five years old, Maria announced, “I’ve decided to make tacos for dinner tonight, and I’m going to invite the Bounties!” They are my friend’s family who lived next store to us. My dad looked at her kind of funny, almost as if he was waiting to hear the catch because she never cooks.
Well, when our gests came in, and we were all sitting at the table, my dad asked, “Why aren’t you taking the tacos out of the oven?”
“Oh, don’t worry, I just checked! They need a few more minutes.”
“Are you sure?” My dad asked.
“Of course I’m sure!” You need to realize!”
So, we were all sitting at the table, every one was getting hungry when suddenly. . .the fire alarm went off!
“OK, fine!” said Maria. “Maybe they were a little over cooked!”
But when we went in to the kitchen every one realized that they were VERY over cooked!
“Oh, my god!”
The oven was completely on fire!
Enreco, my friend's dad, came running in with a fire extinguisher, and he covered the whole kitchen with it!
After that I had to stay at my friend’s house for the night.