Madeline and the Red Ryder BB gun (or Easy Bake Oven, same thing)

Madeline and her friend wanted to use her easy bake oven just as i was about to go take a shower while the boys are napping.

Me: Not right now. I'm going to shower and I don't want you doing it by yourselves.

Granted, the thing bakes by the light of a 100 watt light bulb. Seriously, that's all you need to cook your disgusting little cake. But they are still "baking" and I can't help imagining all of the things that could go wrong if i leave two seven year olds alone with a lightbuld powered "oven". I guess i better lock them all in a room with no lamps while i shower too.

The girls emphasize that it is called EASY BAKE because it is EASY and kids can do it all by themselves. I have no energy or desire to debate that kind of logic, so, I left them alone to" bake" so i could go enjoy a relaxing shower. I reminded them to just unplug it when they are done (and make sure all the lamps are off too, i guess) and walked away thinking "they're never going to remember to unplug it", and suddenly i could hear those wicked ladies from A Christmas Story, only instead of "you'll shoot your eye out" they were heckling "you'll burn the house down, you'll burn the house down." I couldn't relax in the shower because the whole time i kept listening for smoke detectors or screams from second degree burns, or a child trampling through the house screaming "fire!".

Madeline walks into the bathroom in tears.

Me: What? What happened? You burned yourself didn't you? See! I told you...

Madeline: NO MOMMY! I BENT DOWN TO UNPLUG IT AND WHEN I STOOD BACK UP I BUMPED MY HEAD REALLY HARD!

I felt so bad for immediatly assuming that, as usual, I was right, and she indeed could not handle cooking by lamp light. Not only did she handle it just fine, but the only injury that did occur was from her obeying my one request to unpulg it when she's done, so let's be honest, it's my fault.

But I am again reminded of the kid with the Red Ryder BB gun who did, in fact, nearly shoot his eye out with that thing, just as his mother had known he would, and then concoted the phony story about the icicle falling down from the house and smashing into his glasses. It would be just like Madeline to make up that story about hitting her head just to avoid confessing to my being right, again. And she is just clever enough to find that one version of the story that makes it all my fault.

But I have no proof yet. So I kiss her little head a few times and tell her that I'm sorry (because it's my fault and all), and send her on her way. I'll be on the lookout for burn marks. And if I find any, I guess I'll have to confinscate her lamps and the sconce in her room too. Oh, and her new lava lamp. Who knows what damage a seven year old can do with one of those things if she can't even handle an EASY bake oven.