First a bit of background info. I do not own an oven; all I have is this little toaster oven thing (this makes making pizza a pain, but I will suffer for my art). A few days back I attempted to clean said toaster oven, and somehow I destroyed it instead. Every time I switch it on it trips the whole house (wheeee! goes the house).
So now it’s sitting on a chair in the sun, presumably drying out.
Emo Sprog (Sprog the Younger) comes to me and says “coo-coo baby.” (coo-coo = cook for those not au fait with the language of wee sprogs.) I go check. Sure enough, her baby ( a small doll with only one hand and a ball point pen Hitler moustache) is in the toaster oven.
Yeah. I worry.
Later she informs me that she’s “coo-coo puppy.”
Yes. There is now a small toy dog in the toaster oven.
I suppose it gives whole new meaning to hotdog.