by Snow Spider
How not to cook a honey baked ham.
"Lora," I could barely hear him above the blaring alarm, "please go back to your office until dinner is ready. I have everything under control!"
"Then turn that thing off," I shouted pointing to the the alarm above the dining room table. I watch as he climbed onto the table to turn it off, and, then, I went into the kitchen. The cat, his black fur covered with powdered sugar sat on the counter glaring at me. I knew what he was thinking because I was thinking the same thing. I tried to pet him, but he hissed and backed away. Well, I thought turning my attention to the dog cowering against the dishwasher, I suppose Midnight's going to want salmon for the rest of the the week.
"What's the matter, Specs," I stroked her fur and found it covered with something sticky. I raised my finger to my lips, "Honey!"
"Yes, Dear," Harvey said, trying to hug me.
"I wasn't talking to you," I removed his arm and turned to face him. "Harvey, my dog is covered with honey and my cat powdered sugar. What the..." then I noticed that the glass in the oven door was covered with soot. Picking up a potholder, I went to the oven and opened it.
"I'll buy you a new one!"
"A new what, Harvey," I stared at my best roasting pan. Its handles were melted and it contain remains of something that could have been a turkey, a chicken, a leg of lamb, or a ham. "You destroyed my best roasting pan! Why, tell me why...."
"I... I was making a honey baked ham," he blushed, "and... well, I sort of lost control."
"Harvey, you can go to the store and for about thirty dollars you can buy a ham already cooked."
"Sweet Heart," he smiled, "homemade is better."
"Harvey, I love you, so I'm not going to yell at you." I reached into his back pocket, took out his wallet, and removed his Master Card. "I'm taking Specs and Midnight to the groomer's and charging it to your credit card. While I'm gone you can clean up the kitchen." I suppose I should have asked why the cat was covered with powdered sugar, but sometimes it better not to know the answer; especially when Harvey is cooking.