I had some chicken in my fridge that was verging on the “cook it or toss it” time frame. I was not in the mood to cook after doing 7 loads of laundry and cleaning the rest of the house. As I was dialing in to the nearest Pizza Hut my husband decided to take on the challenge of grilling up the chicken. Yes! Brownie points.
He grilled away while I dialed away and soon the chicken was pretty much done while we were munching on our pizza.
I decided to leave my nice, fresh, clean, folded clothes on my couch till the morning when I would put them away. I was too tired to figure out where I was going to put all these clothes. Majority of them were from the garage…when I don’t have time to wash clothes I hide them in there. I know, I know, I’m a sneaky wife.
We headed upstairs with our posse of cats and fell swiftly asleep.
In the middle of the night I woke up to an awful smell of smoked chicken. I woke up my husband asking him if he remembered to turn the grill off. He said he did and if I wanted to I could go double check. He’s really good at remembering these things so I figured the smell must’ve been from the days earlier cooking. I went back to sleep.
I woke up hours later still smelling the awful chicken and decided to light my bedside candle to try to break up the smell, but it wasn’t helpin at all.
Finally, I decided to get up and take the dog out for a quick bathroom break…and to just see if the grill was off. I had a suspicious feeling it wasn’t. I headed downstairs and immediately went towards the grill. Surprisingly, it was turned off. He was right.
BUT the smell was 10x worse than it was upstairs. As I opened up the back door for my dog I seen a orange light flash on my stove. “What was that?”, I thought. I walked over, flicked on the overhead lights and my eyes couldn’t believe what I saw.
The stove was on 450 degrees!!!! I opened up the stove and inside there was an empty pan. Confused as ever, I pulled it out and inside was a charred black piece of chicken. It was so dark that when it was in the stove it disappeared amongst the darkness.
I was relieved all at once that I finally figured out what the smell was and that my house didn’t burn down. I looked behind me towards my living room and seen the 7 loads of laundry sitting on top of my couch. 😰😤😭
I ran over and hesitantly lifted up a pile of clothes to my nose. Yup…burnt chicken.
This morning I debated back and forth with myself trying to decide if I really cared if anyone thought I smelled like burnt chicken. I guess I care enough to spend my day rewashing 7 loads