Burning Burgers
The smell of charred beef filled the backyard, smoke billowing from the grill like a distress signal. Jake froze, spatula in hand, as flames licked the edges of the burgers.
“Oh no, oh no, oh no—” he muttered, waving a dish towel at the fire like that would somehow fix the disaster unfolding before him.
From the patio, his best friend Eli doubled over laughing. “Dude, you were supposed to flip them, not cremate them!”
Jake groaned. This was supposed to be his big moment—his first time manning the grill at his family’s annual barbecue. Instead, it looked like he was summoning the fire department.
“Everything okay out here?” a voice called. Jake turned to see his dad, the undisputed grill master, stepping outside. His expression shifted the second he saw the smoking inferno.
Jake braced for impact.
Instead, his dad chuckled. “Well, well. You’ve officially made your first ‘burning burger.’ You’re one of us now.”
Jake blinked. “Wait… this has happened to you?”
“Oh, yeah. The first time I grilled, I set the whole picnic table on fire.” His dad clapped him on the shoulder. “Cooking isn’t about never messing up—it’s about learning how to fix it.”
With a few quick moves, his dad tamed the flames, saving what was left of the burgers. A little crispy, but still edible.
Jake sighed in relief as Eli took a cautious bite. “Not bad. Tastes like… well, barbecue chips and regret.”
Jake laughed. Maybe he wasn’t a grill master yet—but he was getting there.
And next time? He’d remember to flip the burgers before they became charcoal.
