Hot Money

I've mentioned my cooking disasters in past blogs. I'm just not good around stoves, and recipes never turn out correctly.

I burn food.

But I've never burned money. Not yet anyway.

I have a friend, and to protect the innocent, I'll call her Daisy. Daisy's husband owns a business. I'll call him Dylan. After closing the store for the night, Dylan brought home a bank sack full of cash.  Without thinking, he pitched the bag full of paper money into the oven.

Well, don't ya' know, the wife, Daisy, came along and turned on the oven to preheat to 500 degrees. She left the kitchen while the oven readied itself for the chicken.

Arriving in the bedroom, she greeted Dylan. He was changing into leisure clothes. Daisy changed into hers.

The couple discussed the day as moments went by. Soon, Dylan sniffed the air. "What's burning?"

Daisy replied, "Nothing yet, I'm preheating the oven."

"You turned the oven on?" Dylan's shout could be heard far and near.

Daisy nodded.

"Ye oh!" Dylan gave a yell and ran for the kitchen.

With mittens covering his hands, he pulled from the oven a smoking bag full of half-burned money.

With wide eyes, Daisy exclaimed, "How did that get there?"

Dylan trembled as he retrieved a few of the 100-dollar bills from the ashes. "I was in a hurry to get out of that suit, and I threw it in there."

"Is all the money ruined?"  

Dylan shook his head. "No, but I don't know about these bills that are mostly charred. I doubt the bank will accept them."

"How will we explain burned money to a bank?" Daisy picked up a black greenback.

Dylan snapped his fingers as an idea came along. "Let's dye your hair blonde, and tell them you are a dumb blonde who forgot she threw this bag into the oven and then turned it on. Maybe they will accept that explanation."

Daisy retorted. "Forget it Buster. You dye your hair blonde and tell them you did it."

Arguments got them nowhere. Dylan put the sack of hot money into the home vault, and there it remains to this day.

Family Secrets