I Cannot Cook Without Supervision: Why You Should Worry About Me Living Alone

My dog, Giovanni (he does not require a pseudonym as he is a dog, so yes, that is his real name) and I went over to my parents' house a few weeks back, just to hang out and allow him to play with their two golden retrievers for a bit. It was nice for a while, but my parents have jobs or whatever and couldn't just hang out, so I got bored after a while. And hungry. I started to boil some water to make some pasta for lunch while I watched some TV, but then I decided that I'd rather go downtown with Giovanni, who was getting restless, and get some coffee or something. So, I called my best friend, John Hamm, and asked her (Yes. She chose the male pseudonym "John Hamm" because, let's face it: it's funnier that way.) if she wanted to meet me before she went in to work at the restaurant. Of course, she agreed, because John Hamm loves me. (Yeah, I'll be having fun with that name.)
So, Giovanni and I started our pleasant fifteen minute walk from my parents house to the downtown shopping area. It was perfect: the sun was out and the birds were chirping, people avoided eye contact with me whenever Gio stopped to go to the bathroom... a perfect day!
So when John Hamm showed up, Gio and I were already settled at a nice table outside. John Hamm put down her purse and started digging through it for her wallet. 
John Hamm: I'm gonna go grab some coffee. Want anything?
Me: Nope, just some water for Gio would be nice. Thanks! 
John Hamm: Okie dokie.
John Hamm returned a few minutes later with some coffee and a scone.
John Hamm: Want a bite? 
Me: No, I'm good. I started to make some lunch at home, but decided not t--HOLY SHIT I LEFT THE STOVE ON AT HOME!!!!! (Did you notice, reader, how I never mentioned turning the stove off earlier? If so, congratulations for your close reading!)
John Hamm stared at me, her mouth full of scone, while an anonymous woman sitting at the table behind me started laughing. I did my best to ignore her and convince myself that she was probably reading and extremely humorous book - or my blog.
John Hamm: Are you freaking serious?
Me: Yes! Crap! Can I borrow your keys?
John Hamm: Wait - you walked all the way here?? 
Me: Yes!!! Keys, please!
John Hamm: Oh my God... please don't crash my car. I'll watch Gio.
While I raced home and took turns far too quickly in John Hamm's car, I kept muttering to myself "Please don't let my mom have come home... please don't let my mom have come home..." I probably should have been muttering something more like "Please don't let the house have burned down...", but obviously that is not the nature of my true colors. A lot of self reflection has come from this experience. Trust me. 
I flew into the driveway (seriously, John Hamm's Toyota Corolla might have caught some air) and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that the house was still standing, the air around it smoke-free, and, most importantly, my mother's car was not in the driveway. I sprinted inside, found both golden retrievers staring dumbly at me and a pot of evaporated water sitting over flames on the stove. 
As my blood pressure began to lower, I ran the pot under some cold water and tried to ignore how dumb I was (without success). I hugged and kissed the dogs, and then left my parents house to return to my coffee date with John Hamm and Giovanni. 
John Hamm: How's the house? Still standing?
Me: Yes! It's fine. There was only water in the pot in the first place, so nothing could catch on fire and the pot was easy to clean. Also, your car is fine.
I smiled at her. John Hamm shook her head at me and drank her coffee without another word. 
At that very moment my mother sent me a text: Are you still at home? I'm on my way back for lunch. 
Thank God for good timing... and my new favorite applicance after my coffee maker: the microwave.