So one time I was home alone and it was around dinnertime when I decided to make 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. Thinking that my parents must have thrown away the box for box tops, I called my mom to ask how long and at what temperature to cook chicken nuggets. She gave me the instructions, so I placed about 20 on a tray, put them in the oven, set the timer, and left the kitchen. As the timer was about to go off, I entered a kitchen that smelled like cinnamon. I looked around the kitchen, trying to locate the source of the cinnamon smell, which led me to the oven. I turned on the oven light to see if my mom had maybe left some cookies in there, but to my surprise, the tray I had put chicken nuggets on now had cookies on it!. While I was trying to understand what had happened, I heard the front door open and my mom exclaim, “Ooooo what’s that smell?”. She walked into the kitchen and saw my puzzled look. At that moment, it clicked, and she realized exactly what had happened. Somehow, I had inadvertently baked snickerdoodles. And that’s why my parents can never take my cooking seriously.