My brother and father are vindicated.

Many years ago, I was cooking shortbread cookies. I'd been cooking for hours since I'd rather over doubled the recipe. On the last batch I decided I was going to go have a shower. I instructed the males of my family (Mum being at work) that the cookies were in the oven and the timer would go off when they were done and PLEASE - OMG - PLEASE take them out when the timer goes. Two hockey enthralled men agreed enthusiastically.

Of course, at the wise old age of 33, I now know two hockey enthralled men would agree to having their limbs chopped off if it meant that the woman shuts up and leaves them alone to watch the game. Little did I know THEN.

I came back down from the shower to the timer buzzing its fool head off, being one of those models that don't shut up until you shut it off. Smoke is gathering on the ceiling and it's about a foot thick, and the hockey enthralled men don't notice until I open the door and the smoke detector starts to join in the cacophony. They never quite lived that down.

Until today!

This evening having a sugar craving I decided to bake shortbread cookies. Its just sugar + flour + butter, even I have those in my kitchen. I made the dough, I put little dough circles on a cookie sheet and put them in the pre-warmed oven. The thermometer in the oven said it was 250C instead of the 350C it was supposed to be. So I turned it up 50C and waited for the light to go out again. Of course, I didn't check the thermometer a second time, I just shoved the cookies in and set the timer for 20 minutes. I then went back to the computer room and went back to playing Everquest.

After about 9 minutes I can smell smoke. "Odd," I think. And get up.

It's about then the two furry helpers start thumping up a storm. "SMOKE! FIRE! DANGER! HUMAN IS COOKING AND NOT IN THE MICROWAVE!!"

"Yes, yes, I hear you. I smell it." I also add they're lousy fire detectors if I noticed before they did. Then I wonder if maybe they've been thumping for a while and I just didn't notice.

There is smoke BILLOWING out of the stove. I turn on the extractor fan and open the door to reveal 12 hockey pucks, all pretty and black.

Sage has followed me into the kitchen, and I SWEAR she's giving me the exact same look I gave my brother and father oh so many years ago. And I KNOW she was thinking "It's a good thing she's cute."