Her: What are you doing?
Her: Uh huh. Where are you calling me from?
Me: My apartment, why?
Her: Where in your apartment?
Me: My kitchen. What’s up?
Her: Ah hah! That proves it!
Me: Proves what?
Her: You’re up to something! You are physically incapable of doing nothing in the kitchen.
Me: I don’t know what you’re taking about.
Her: Really? I bet if you were kidnapped, blindfolded, tied up, and placed in someone’s kitchen, you would teach yourself escapology in order to create awesomeness!
Seriously. Are those pans clanking in the background?
Me: A train is going by.
Her: Riiiiight. So I do not hear the whoosh of the gas stove bright turned on?
Me: Of course not!
It’s the oven. But is completely possible for me to enter a kitchen without making something.