Let me set the scene for you: It was a quiet Tuesday evening, and I had just started working on a blog post all about time-saving kitchen tips. I was feeling inspired, writing away about how setting timers and staying organized could save you from kitchen disasters. I may have even typed the words, “Don’t leave the kitchen unattended while cooking.”

Irony, thy name is Robin.

Somewhere between typing out my brilliant advice and editing the perfect Instagram caption, I realized the faint smell of something… off. You know that sinking feeling when you know something’s gone terribly wrong but hope against hope that you’re mistaken? Yeah, that was me.

I raced to the kitchen to find my beautifully planned dinner—roasted vegetables and chicken—had transformed into something resembling charcoal art. The baking sheet was smoking, my smoke alarm was screeching, and my dog was giving me side-eye as if to say, “Really? Again?”

At that moment, I had two options: cry over my culinary failure or laugh hysterically at the fact that I’d literally burned dinner while writing about not burning dinner. Spoiler: I chose laughter. (Well, after I opened all the windows and silenced the alarm.)

Lesson Learned: Writing about being a better cook doesn’t make you immune to kitchen chaos. And always—always—set a timer.

So, what did we eat that night? A last-minute spaghetti dinner, because even I know it’s hard to mess up boiling water.