I’d rather not talk about breakfast today.

For dinner, though, I learned a thing or two about our frozen entrees. We found some tasty frozen pasta meals that they love, but I’m all-thumbs in the kitchen. These things have their cooking instructions printed on the bottom -- several steps’ worth. The first step is to pull back the cover and microwave the box for three minutes. That was easy enough.

But I can never remember Step 2. It’s something to do with stirring certain ingredients separately -- these things have pasta, cheese sauce and occasionally something akin to meat. They are to be kept separate from one another in Steps 2 and 3. It’s easy to keep them separate when they’re frozen solid, but that’s prior to the completion of Step 1.

At the onset of Step 2, the cook is left with three partially runny lumps in the same box, with no dividers. Yet the lumps must be stirred and kept from mixing with the other lumps. This is something like putting three raw eggs in a bowl, then telling somebody to break the yoke of one and stir it up, without disturbing the other two eggs.

Further complicating matters is the fact that, as of Step 2, the cook has an open container of freshly microwaved partial liquids, with further instructions on the bottom. That’s where I ran into trouble. I was certain Step 2 had something to do with mixing, but I wasn’t sure what. So I turned the container over, to read the bottom.

On my second attempt, after having wiped macaroni wheels off the stove, I remembered the container was open. This time, I held it aloft in order to read the instructions. Microwaved macaroni cheese burns when it drips in your eye.

For attempt number 3, I got smart and grabbed a pencil and an unpaid bill, the back of which made for an excellent blank note page. I grabbed another frozen meal out of the freezer, turned it over, and started writing steps 2-4 on the back of the envelope. I was still on step 3 when I realized I didn’t need to make notes; all I had to do was read the back of a still-frozen one while working with a hot one.

Frozen cribnotes in hand, I followed steps 2-4 on the next batch of macaroni wheels. Stir the runny masses, but don’t let them mix! Reheat for another minute to 90 seconds. Stir everything together. Let cool.

That last step is subjective, I discovered, and I still have the blisters on my thumbs to prove it. I’m not sure how a piece of crimped cardboard can retain so much heat, but Kwai Chang Cane could have used our cheeseburger mac to burn those dragon and tiger tattoos into his arms. I wound up with two long, red streaks on my thumbs, not resembling anything that even remotely suggests I’m a Shaolin priest with cool Kung Fu abilities. But I did manage to teach the boys a few new words.

Apart from my blistered thumbs and wounded pride, dinner seemed to go well. The boys were well-behaved, the food was enjoyable once it cooled down, and Blue gave some good clues to Steve about her missing ball.

Then came bathtime. Something else I’m not ready to talk about yet, but I have to admit that Sugarbear’s logic was spot on -- a quick shot of soapy water to the eye from a spitting rubber duck is a good way to flush out burning cheese sauce....

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