Bacon For One

My 14-year-old likes to cook. When he was eight, he managed to convey his future Chef Boyardee aspirations so convincingly to a salesman that he somehow snagged himself a free toaster oven (granted, his parents had just dropped a pretty penny on all new appliances, but it's still a cute story). Unfortunately, as he's gotten older, his cooking whims are less helpful in the kitchen and more in the 'one more thing I have to clean up after' category. The warm fuzzy idea of me in all my June Cleaver glory with a chirpy, "Justin, help me with dinner!" never came to fruition. My child is much more about his own current cravings and not at all any kind of meaningful asset in my kitchen. 

His latest fixation is bacon. The kid loves bacon. I know, I know, who doesn't? He really takes it to the next level with his pork preference. He has a bacon wallet. His grandmother sent him gummy bacon a few weeks ago ("I saw it and HAD to get it for him!"). He has decided that he wants, no needs, bacon for breakfast each morning, so he's been cooking it each night. But he doesn't just cook it. He cooks SOME. Having decided he only wants fresh bacon (and since I convinced him that no, he can't cook it and leave it out in the microwave overnight), he makes himself a few slices every single afternoon to have for the next morning. Which means every single day, my house smells like cooking bacon. And who wouldn't love that? Except it's Justin, not Rachael Ray, and even though it's a party of five around here, it's only bacon for one. During most of these bacon runs, I'm stuck working in the next room, and just like a dog who'll run even when you've only pretended to throw something, I continue to fall for the trap and follow the heavenly aroma to the kitchen, only to be greeted with the disappointment of a full sink, but an empty pan. 

After the child's bacon frenzy today, this was our little chat:

J: Mom! Where's the grease can?
M: It was full last night so it got thrown out.
J: What do I do with the grease?
M: Look in the recycle bin and see if there's another jar or something with a lid.
J: I can't find anything.
M: Is there something without a lid?
J: I found a soda bottle.
M: Really? A soda bottle? Do you really think you can use that?
J: Why not?
M: Do you think that you could pee into that soda bottle?
J: Yeah.
M: Really? And NOT make a mess at all?
J: Probably not.
M: Unless you're 100% sure, I would suggest you not try pouring hot grease into something you couldn't even pee into without making a mess.
J: So, I can't use the soda bottle?

He's going to make some girl soooooo happy someday. And by some girl I mean me when he moves out and can bring home the bacon to someone else's kitchen.