So, it's hot here today. To keep the heat inside down, I defrosted a couple of chicken breasts and put them in my little crockpot. When they're done, I'll shred them and dump some alfredo sauce on them and serve it over noodles.
I'm in the office, I hear a clatter in the kitchen. I know what it is, it's the crockpot lid. It's plastic. I jump up and start yelling "you better get down from there!" all the way into the kitchen.
There's Charlie, head in the crockpot, he's pulling out a chicken breast. The lid (damnit, he just did it AGAIN!) is laying to the side. He quickly jumped down and I washed the chicken off, put it back in the crockpot (which after the second time now has foil under the lid).
As I walked out of the kitchen (the first time), he's down by the kibble, eating. "It wasn't me, mom". The second time he was on the table, cleaning his face.
Cats. Gotta love 'em.
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