Last night I was heating up some quesadillas in the microwave. It was one of those deals where you open the box, take out some stone-like things in the shape of a crescent, stick 'em in some sleeve, and then microwave the bloody heck out of them.
Well, I think there must be some universal law that you can't get a good ol' Aristotelian mean out of a sleeve pocket dinner. Either there's still a frozen portion (usually in the middle) or it becomes scalding hot. Actually, what usually happens is that you get both. The edges are scalding hot but the middle is nice and frozen. In the case of last night the edges were actually burned and the paper was about ready to catch fire. And yet, once again there is still a frozen piece the size of Alaska. So what do you do with the part that's already cooked to death? Slice around it and put the frozen part back in. But I don't want to ruin my nice crescent. . .
Maybe this'll be one of the things I ask God about when I get to Heaven.
