Today my school was so happy to see me at breakfast that they had waiters, fancy food, fifteen ficus trees and a string quartet waiting for me at the cafeteria.
I'm just kidding. Those things were not for me. They were for the alumni that were visiting for Homecoming Weekend. The school had separated the cafeteria, with one side for us mere college students and the other side for the illustrious alumni. They even got table cloths.
Slightly disconcerted by this, I decided that making myself some fresh waffles would be a good breakfast. I was pampering myself because I had just finished a short story that was due that day.
I walked over to the waffle machine, prepared to make myself a great breakfast. I turned on the machine, poured the batter on it, and let that baby cook. It smelled delicious.
Two minutes later, my waffle was ready. I lifted the top of the waffle machine... only to see my waffle in pieces, stuck to the two sides of the waffle maker.
At first I couldn't figure out what I had done wrong. Then my roommate came up to me, looked at my mess, and said:
"Did you remember to spray the waffle maker?"
And that is how I ended up scraping off waffle bits while accompanied by Beethoven's Symphony No. 9.