So one day I was alone at home and it was about dinner time when I planned to fix myself something to eat. I opened the freezer and dug around until I found what appeared to be chicken nuggets in an unopened plastic bag that for some reason, didn’t have any cooking instructions. Believing my parents had discarded the box for box tops, I called my mom to find out the cooking time and temperature for chicken nuggets. She told me both of them, I laid out about 20 on a tray and stuck it in the oven, setting the timer before I walked out of the kitchen. When it was almost time to get my chicken nuggets, I walked into a cinnamon scented kitchen. I explored the kitchen, trying to identify where the cinnamon scent was coming from, and it brought me to the oven. I turned on the oven light, thinking my mom might have left some cookies inside, but I found that the tray with my chicken nuggets was actually filled with cookies!. As I’m trying to process what just happened, I hear the front door open and my mom shout delightedly, “Ooooo what’s that smell?”. She entered the kitchen and noticed my bewildered expression. At that moment, it clicked, and she realized exactly what had happened. In some way or another, I had unintentionally baked snickerdoodles. And that is why my parents can never take my cooking seriously.