“I’ve Got Shards in My Enchilada”

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After a long day of work, my girlfriend calls to ask if I’m okay with enchiladas tonight. “HELL YES” I’m okay with enchiladas for dinner tonight! Leaving late from work on a Friday, I got into the car for my 40=minute trek to the Philadelphia suburbs. I could taste the cheesey goodness of enchiladas, looking forward to smelling them as I walk up the stairs to the apartment. YUM.

Ten minutes away—now I’m really getting hungry. I’ve convinced my stomach that it’s in for a tasty treat tonight. He’s excited. I got a call from girlfriend, thinking it would be her asking how far away I was so she would know when to put it in the oven. Then, WHAMMY: “the pyrex dish exploded after about a minute and a half in the oven.” DAMNIT. Luckily, girlfriend was okay and THANK GOODNESS she didn’t open up the oven to peak at the enchiladas while it exploded.

I wasn’t sure of what to expect — was thinking maybe the “oven safe” glass just split into quarters. She seemed upset on the phone — but she did just spend an hour creating these tasty envelopes of cheesy goodness. But then I got home, and the glass had literally shattered into hundreds of tiny glass pieces, covered in cheese. To make it worse, of course cheese coated at least half of the oven. Since we have a gas oven, the glass (and cheese) also snuck into the cracks that go below the panel that covers the gas burners.

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