Anyone who knows me knows that there is nothing scarier than putting me in a kitchen. It doesn’t matter what I’m trying to make. I will find a way to screw it up so badly that you wouldn’t even recognize what my creation was supposed to be, or what recipe I was following. I made one of those boxed cakes one time for my mom’s birthday. I don’t know what I missed, but as wonderful as it smelled, it had no binding properties and promptly crumbled as I attempted to un-pan it. One time I tried to scramble some eggs. I smoked out the house before anything even reached the griddle. I made an attempt at oatmeal and ruined a pot.