So my youngest brother is in the hospital overnight (please pray for him, by the way; this is the worst I've ever heard him), and I wound up watching the others until Dad got home from work. This requires me to cook supper.
The ensuing phone call to my mother went something like this...
Me: How far in advance do you have to start scalloped potatoes? That's what's on the menu.
(Clarification: Meals around here are planned out and posted on the fridge weekly.)
Mom: Actually, it's probably too late to start scalloped potatoes.
Me: So then what do I make?
Mom: You could have soup.
Me: I don't know how to make soup.
And now she'll be upset when they get home because she just cleaned the stove and of course the soup boiled over.