The other day my eldest wanted to bake cookies. I was busy tutoring two kids at the same time, we had visitors in and out of the house, and I gave her complete permission to do this on her own.
When the cookies were done, she asked me if I had wanted one. The cookies were delicious! She had done such a great job, that I asked her where the rest of them were. And as she pointed to the general vicinity on the counter, I saw it. She had not baked on one of the 10 baking sheets shoved into the cabinet aside the stove- rather, she used the metal dish drying sheet.
The dish drying sheet that had caked on soap scum and filth- that I had shoved into the same cabinet.
