Last night my husband moved the gas grill from winter storage in the garage to the patio. It’s spring, at least for now! We grilled burgers last night. As always, I went back out to take mine off later, I don’t trust anyone else to make sure it is well done.
When we got home from church today I eagerly anticipated grilled marinated chicken breasts for our leisurely lunch. We changed our plans; an invitation to join the first golf outing of the spring was waiting on our answering machine. I’m not a golfer but I don’t begrudge his sport. No problem, we’ll have chicken later for dinner. We’ll quickly grill hot dogs for lunch. All plans changed when I realized I had left the grill on overnight. No gas in the cylinder, and no one but myself to blame.