My House Smells Like Burnt Smores or "I Smell Sex and Candy" the director's cut

Tonight I tried to make my "crowd pleasing" fruit slush. Now my house smells like burnt smores and I've again succeeded in almost burning down another house... or at least smoking it out.

The recipe:

*2 parts sugar, 3 parts water - bring to a boil - freeze overnight

*frozen fruit, any variety (to taste)

*Fresca / sprite / ginger ale/tonic water (pick your poison) any variety to taste

*fresh banana cut up in the mix

*Mix and VIOLA! Party time!

It's a no brainer... easiest treat in the world and practically no-fail. I say "practically" because tonight I learned a different story. I had successfully served this delightful treat (which is also a no-fail for my dinner parties, any of you that have attended) at a young women's activity... and I was making a few extra batches for my cousin's wedding reception on Saturday (Danny and I are heading outside NY for a wedding this weekend... we get in Friday night, attend the wedding dinner and wedding saturday and head back to SLC Sunday... it will be a quick but brilliant trip.)

Anyway, I got the simple sugar syrup boiling on the stove.... and then I started watching the Red Sox game in the 9th inning, thinking it was going to be over shortly... yeah, it went 14 innings...

I now have 1) no simple syrup to freeze for slush, 2) a pan that looks like carmel burned to the bottom of it (because it did), 3) EVERY window in my house opened AND 4) a smokey house.

I swear I am not cut out for domesticity. (Holden, what are we getting ourselves into?!?!? It's going to be you and me on our own kid... and I'm not sure how safe that is...)

I don't want to scar (or scare) any of you. But I couldn't help but think of another domestic experience that I decided to share with all of Washington County shortly after Danny and I tied the knot. (I have shared this with you before. Find it from the magazine here at the online version.