Some people have a talent behind the stove and some don't. That's just the way things work. I'm kinda in the middle. My sister and my dad are the talented chefs, I don't remember what my mom's cooking tastes like. Screw the steps. Now my little otouto-chan...um, he...yeah. Kay, this is just how terrible his 'skills' are.

So, I was hungry, but I was also in the process of watching InuYasha with my step, Sammy, on the computer. You don't pass up InuYasha. Ever. It's like forgetting Bleach or Samurai Champloo. Something along those lines of glory. You get my point. Ooh, Fruits Basket counts too. Anyways, like I said, I didn't want to let go of InuYasha to heat up some soup. Yes, I was too lazy. I could easily do it now. Unless of course I wasn't hungry or I was falling asleep in the chair as the lights flashed in front of me. But that's not what I'm trying to say. What my point is, I was lazy. Was. Just making sure...

"Hey otouto-chan!" I called out from my seat, my eyes sticking to the computer screen, "Could you heat the soup up for me? It's really easy! Just put it on medium!" Bryn stopped for a moment and looked our direction. I could tell he was astonished by my question by the dazed look that reflected beneath the real player screen.

"I don't know how," was his stupid response. I fell into some unidentified sort of a coma. I pulled myself from the computer, remaining on the chair, of course.

"Brynny," I pushed, "You put the pot of soup on the stove and stir every now and then. When it tastes 'not cold' you put it in a bowl, and give it to me. See? Easy."

"Char!" he started to yell (note: I'm under the impression that he has anger management problems.), "I can't do it!" I rolled my eyes, feeling somewhat frustrated. I wasn't asking him to cook a gourmet meal, I was asking him to heat up soup. I had even given him the extremely simple instructions!

"Kay, we'll take it one step at a time. Turn the stove on," I calmly instructed. Bryn lost it.

"No!" he screamed, "It'll blow up!" (note: I'm not making any of this up. He really did believe that the stove would blow us all to bits.)

"Brynny! It won't blow up!" I almost laughed in a strange sort of way. I was frustrated yet amused at his stupid thought of us dying when he turned the stove top on.

"Yes it will!"

"Just do it!"

In an annoyed manner, he walked over to the stove and pressed the dial, preparing to turn it. He turned to fast and the flames burst a little bigger than normal before disappearing. Bryn screamed and jumped back. Gas began coming out of the stove where flames should've been. I rolled my eyes. Then I noticed I was angry.

"Go turn the bloody thing off!" I screamed, pointing at the stove. Bryn was near tears and shaking. Oh gol, I thought. Yeah, I know, I was being kind of a jerk. I've made up for it. I'm now close to the best sister in the world. There's still a titch of room for improvement.

I stormed over to the stove and turned it off, returning it on, but this time slowly. The small blue flames gently hissed. I put the pot of soup on top of them and grabbed a wooden spoon from the drawer next to me.

So, the point of this story is: Make food yourself or you'll traumatize your younger siblings.