My sister was not allowed to touch the stove. I wasn't either but I wasn't the one standing there making herself a small piece of bacon. No sir. It wasn't me. I was standing there, being the true pesky little sister: "DeeDee, will you make me some bacon too?"
"No way. We're supposed to go outside. Carrie said so."
My sister, ever the obedient one, has chosen now to obey the babysitter. Just my luck. No after-school snack for me. My sister refused to make me one and now we have to go outside. What should I do? What could I do?
I did what any normal child would do. I quietly opened the refrigerator door. I sneakily opened the package of bacon and I found the smallest piece and popped it in the skillet and turned it on very low.
Just in time too. Here came Carrie, "Come on, Lynn. We're going outside. My boyfriend is coming by and your mom says he can't come in the house. And besides it's too nice outside." She just stood there, as if she was expecting me to just "hop-to" and obey her.
I wasn't about to tell her why I couldn't possibly go outside at that very moment. I valued my life too much. First Carrie would kill me for disobeying. She'll tell my mom, and then my mom would kill whatever part of me thought of living after Carrie was finished with me. Self-preservation was flowing free in my veins. I turned and went outside.
It did not take long for me to forget about my bacon cooking. Had I thought about it I might have invented some reason I had to go inside. Being a girl, generally using the restroom was a good enough one, but I didn't think of it.
That is, I didn't think of it until Carrie said it was time to go inside. DeeDee opened the back door. Instead of seeing the white wall of the dining room, we saw gray. A big wall of gray. Funny, I don't remember that wall being painted.
Carrie screamed or something useful like that and DeeDee went off like a rocket down the street yelling, "I'll call the fire department", since Carrie had refused to allow us in the house for any reason.
That's when I remembered the bacon. I had no clue if you put a tiny scrap of bacon in a skillet and turn it on low, leave it for an hour or two it will turn into a burnt black mess and make lots and lots of smoke.
I shot a long glance at Carrie; she was staring very intently at me. I tried to feign ignorance of all things pertaining to the smoke. I tried bringing up dumb school stuff.
"Hey Carrie, did you hear what Tim did today? He switched the labels on the bathroom door so Mr. Rowan went into the girls’ room. Mrs. Comston was in there and man was she ever mad. I'll bet Tim doesn't sit down for a week." Still she stared, and started moving towards me. I froze. I didn't know what to do or what to say. I knew jokes were out of the question, which is how I usually handled such situations. Funny, it hadn't worked before and I still did it only this time, I didn't dare.
"Did you touch the stove?"
"No." Now, before you judge me and call me a liar, might I remind you, I touched the fridge, bacon and skillet. I did not touch the stove.
"I know you did and you're gonna get it." I was saved from a certain death by the wail of the approaching fire trucks...and the gloating face of DeeDee.
"I also called Mom, and you're gonna get it." She had the audacity to further gloat over my misfortune as only a big sister can gloat.
My mom flew in right behind the fire truck. After it was determined nothing was horribly wrong with the house, just a bit gray and smoky, the fire trucks left, as did Carrie. DeeDee also was strangely absent.
Obviously since I've written this I did live through the experience. I can say, it is not something I want to ever live through again. If Tim didn't sit for a week, he's the lucky one.
And that is how I came to be banned from the kitchen.
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