I loooove the title. I have such a backlog that it took me awhile to get to this one, trying to read in an orderly fashion to that I wouldn't miss a little gem here or there. In the meanwhile, I've been singing Beetle's tunes in the back of my brain.
You know how they say that memories tied to emotions or smells are the most vivid? When microwaves were new-fangled contraptions, at least in my financially conservative house, my sister and I tried a recipe for microwave peanut butter cookies. Since the recipe didn't tell us what to expect, we kept looking through the window and cooking it longer and longer and longer, waiting for them to brown. Finally my mom asked us to take them out and check on them. When we opened the door, the airtight seal was broken and the smell... I decided that there was nothing in the world that smelled more acrid than something burnt in the microwave. (My brother asked, "Do we eat them?" He's no Solomon.)
The only thing worse is the smell of burnt plastic. I have another vivid memory of that one, unfortunately it's much more recent. I'm supposing that the combination of my two worst smells, burnt Saran Wrap in the microwave, would be atrocious.
Hilarious!
Elisabeth
