All work on this page is copyrighted and has been digitally sealed to retain its integrity. If you like what you read we would ask that if you want to use it please do contact us in the first instance or at the very least acknowledge the author. Please also be aware the work you see here is from young writers who want to share their work and develop their talents and so we ask that any comments should be appropriate and informative.
How not to boil an egg
I would like to say ‘it’s just a phase’, but its not … I am a teenager, and I am totally incapable of boiling an egg without creating some supremely disgusting stink, making a total racket comparable with that of nuclear warfare or smearing boiling water all over my dad’s new cooker. That’s me … an incompetent teenager, good for nothing.
You might say I’m lazy, that I should be able to be independent at my age, and yes, I know, when you were my age, you had a job, you were earning money, baking cakes and sewing buttons onto coats. I’ve heard it all before and I know what you’re thinking: I’m an incompetent teenager, good for nothing.
The other day, I decided to brave an attempt at making myself a lavish breakfast… well, a boiled egg at least. So, I boil the kettle and carefully place my egg into the pan, and go and watch TV.
1 hour later, half way through some horrendously tedious daytime TV, a suspicious smell enters my nostrils and I shiver at the realisation that my egg is likely to be disappointingly blackened. Burnt.
I clumsily stagger to the kitchen on my Saturday-morning legs to be smothered in a fog of fumes and sure enough, the pan has boiled dry, the egg timer melted into a puddle of liquid plastic and my egg has sizzled to nothing more than an unidentifiable lump of I-don’t-know-what.
At this point, you probably want me to explain myself. Ok, I will, I’m an incompetent teenager, good for nothing. Besides, I was bought up by a mother who refused to allow her three year old children to paint, bake or undertake any activity which had the potential to damage her precious carpets. One exception to this rule was that we undertook regular outdoor water fights, however, I must emphasise that this was purely because it meant that we were going to be cleaner when we finished than we would be when we started. It is for this reason that I have had no experience of the more – let me say – adventurous experiences in life and as a result have had no desire to attempt to acquire skills in the cookery department.
I have therefore come to the conclusion that I am better off being an incompetent teenager until it is no longer possible. You may not agree but, I forgive you, after all, you didn’t see the look on my mother’s face when she identified the cause of the rancid stench of a plastic and egg combo that clung to her deep pile carpets.
I think I’ll stick to cereal for my breakfast in future.