Something miraculous happened to me recently.
The other night, I was typing at my laptop, responding to emails, ordering gifts for friends, and ignoring the drifts of cat fur that grow larger by the day.
Nearly a half an hour went by before I stood up and walked toward our kitchen. It was only then that I remembered: I’d left a pot of rice cooking on the stove.
“Oh no!” I yelped. “I forgot about the rice! Shoot and sugar muffins!”
(If you hang around me long enough, you’ll hear creative alternatives to swear words; it’s a holdover from growing up “so totally relig”.)