I snuck upstairs and entered the kitchen. I assembled the ingredients, picked my champion spatula, heated the pan and started frying that sucker. I went back to put the butter away and dropped it on my foot. My dad happened to get up and had to instruct me on how best to handle flipping, because it seems my spatula was not indeed a champion. He also helped me reassemble my sandwich while in the pan. I had Siri look up grilled cheese recipes because it all seemed so confusing. While I was doing that, one corner of my sandwich burned. The other was devoid of cheese. I’m now eating this unhappy sandwich next to the Christmas tree.
I am 18 years of age and this is the story of the first grilled cheese I have ever taken upon myself to make.