Aww. I went to take the pork roast out of the oven just a moment ago, and half the dish stayed in my hand while the other half stayed in the oven.
At least there was no meat-juice-spillage, because I always double up on the foil. But still, I’m a bit sad. This was a pretty damn good baking dish. Used at least three times a week for at least five years, and damn if I didn’t keep it pretty clean. What about all that burned on oook? It’s due to HIM not washing it before using it again. Usually to make me breakfast. Ugh, how do you balance bitching with gratitude?
Best thing? I wasn’t the last to wash it before it exploded. BOOYAH motherfucker, I won’t have to scrape burned grease off of you ever again.