The 6th Sense

The sense of smell tells me that there is something burning.

The sense of hearing tells me by the beep, beep, beep it's in the microwave.

The sense of sight tells me that 7 mini pancakes have been nuked beyond all recognition.

The sense of touch tells me that the damn plastic plate was in there way too long.

The sense of taste tells me, well I'm not tasting those nasty things.

And most importantly, the sense of common tells me that my daughter added a zero to the 40 seconds that I told her to push from the comfort of my bed. And that those few little extra moments I was wanting of rest and relaxation are totally gone as I go to clean up the disaster that is known as the kitchen.

And fix more pancakes.