The popping sounds were unmistakable.
Silvio hurried to the kitchen and pressed the release lever that opened the door to the microwave and stopped the machine. The food inside the bowl sitting on the spin-plate of the microwave gave one last pop.
Silvio opened the door and peered inside. Orange globs were stuck to the ceiling of the microwave. Orange speckles dotted the inner wall. Brown liquid had bubbled over and run over the edge and down the side of the bowl to pool at the base of the bowl. Now it was dried out and cooked on.
The entire thing was a serious mess.
Silvio groaned. He gently touched the bowl with one finger. Very hot. He pulled the hand towel out of its holder and used it to wrap around the bowl for hand protection and pulled it out. He set it on the counter.
"I just cleaned this," he said.
His husband, Carl, walked up behind him and gazed over his shoulder. "We'll clean it up now, before it crusts on. It won't be so bad."
"I know," Silvio said. "But, still. I just cleaned this."
Katarina twirled into the room. Today she had decided she wanted to be a dancer when she grew up. She'd spent the morning practicing her jazz hands and handstands, and the afternoon seemed primed to be ballet practice.
Silvio looked at the microwave-safe bowl and frowned. "Katarina. Did you try to microwave your lunch?"
"Yup," she said. "I poured the soup out of the open box, just like you said, and I used the blue bowl, just like you said." She twirled again and finished with a grand curtsy. "And I remembered to put the box back in the fridge, just like you said!"
"She did do what you said," Carl whispered in Silvio's ear.
Silveio swatted him on the hip. "How much time did you punch in?"
Katarina poked her finger into the air. "One one one, just like you told me!"
Silvio checked the remaining time on the display. She must have entered four ones, not just three, to get 11:11 because eight minutes still remained. He was just thankful she hadn't entered a hundred and eleven minutes. That could have turned out very badly.
"Honey, next time, I want you to get one of us to help you with the timer on the microwave, okay?"
"Okay," she said. "Can I have my soup now?"
"In a minute, it's still too hot."
"Okay." Katarina returned to twirling.
Silvio cleared the display and reached for the kitchen sponge. He faced off against the sad, exploded remains of several carrot chunks. At least, he thought they were once carrots. It was hard to tell. He sighed, and went to work.
Carl hugged him from behind and kissed his neck. "If this isn't love," he said, "I don't know what is."
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