THE WHOLE STORY Part One: MY FATHER'S KITCHEN
I'll never forget the day that I visited my father and saw burn holes, the size of hockey pucks, in his kitchen counter and several places in the floor. I asked, "What on earth?"
He told me the horrifying story. It began with wanting some instant coffee. He put a pot of water on the stove and turned the electric element on High. He answered the phone, went downstairs, forgot about his pot and didn't return to the kitchen for several hours.
The water had long since boiled away when he discovered the electrical element a fphosphorescent orange. In hindsight, this was a pot that shouldn't be moved. Unfortunately, my father turned off the stove, found the handle extremely hot and used an oven mitt to move the weapon of mass destruction to the sink.
He turned on the tap!
No one should ever move a hot pot like that, let alone add cold water to it. My father created a bomb. The pot became molten lava and spewed flaming balls all over the kitchen. He was very fortunate that he wasn't harmed.
I said, "At least, you have homeowner's insurance. That ought to cover all the damages."
My father said, "No. We can't use our insurance for this."
I argued back and he explained the reason why.
"This isn't the first time I've done it."
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