My cooking has always been the target of family jokes. One evening, as I prepared dinner a bit too quickly, the kitchen filled with smoke and the smoke detector went off. Although both of my children had received fire-safety training at school, they did not respond to the alarm.
Annoyed, I stormed through the house in search of them. I found them in the bathroom, washing their hands. Over the loud buzzing of the smoke alarm, I asked them to identify the sound.
“It’s the smoke detector,” they replied in unison.
“Do you know what that sound means?” I demanded.
“Sure,” my oldest replied. “Dinner’s ready.”