I burnt my oatmeal again today. It’s such a simple thing to cook. Fast. Easy. Healthy. I like to put a few berries or banana slices on it. I would never order oatmeal at a restaurant or anything, but I do enjoy it at home for a healthy start to the day. And yet, at least once a week, I walk away from my oatmeal in an effort to save time by continuing to take care of my checklist and burn the hell out of it.
Unbelievable!
And when I say burnt, I mean burnt to a crisp, soak in the sink to chisel it off the next day burnt. The funny thing is that every time I turn the burner on, I think to myself how this time will be different. I suppose I do have successful days in between the torching, and maybe I should celebrate those.
But every pot of burnt oatmeal somehow comes as a surprise, followed by a slurry of four-letter words. I think at this point, I just need to accept the inevitable and go with it.
