How the Toronto Maple Leafs burned my dinner

I come in too late for dinner, as usual, because I'm out back feeding firewood through the log-splitter so the crew here doesn't have to freeze to death in the depths of the coming February cold snap.

The Leafs-Jets match is well underway. There's a pan of lasagna on the table. I slide a square of cold lasagna on a plate and pop it in the microwave for 2:22. Should be about right. Then I go to catch up with the Leafs.

So I sit down and holy shit, the Leafs are winning! How cool is that?

The farm manager is watching the game too. Except she's not really watching. She's talking.

To me.

Wants me to know about all the in-laws who have put on weight over the holiday season. This is certainly something I've been curious about.

The Leafs are up 2-0 and look to be more or less in control of the game.

Auntie Flo is up 20 pounds over the holiday season. That's nothing; cousin Carin is up 50.

Our family has a wild mash-up of Christmas and Hanuka celebration. The underlying theme is lots of really good food.

Grabovski scores to put the Leafs up 3-0. The problem with me is I'm attempting to multi-task here.

Grabovski? Grabovski? Hey, is that any relation to Uncle Henry? Henry Grabovski? Survived Treblinka?

No... no, Uncle Henry was a Goretsky, not a Grabovski...

Just then the smoke detector goes off.

There's smoke pouring out of the pantry, three rooms away.

Shit. It's my lasagna.

2:22 is two hours and twenty-two minutes? Since when? Who knew? I still had an hour and fifty seven minutes left. But the lasagna was toast.

The Leafs finished off the Jets 4-0.