"How's that mindfulness coming along?"

As she sat happily typing up inconsequential blog posts, reveling in an evening without obligations (or, with obligations pushed firmly to the back of her mind), she noticed an odd sweet smell. "Hm, like sugar, or fruit... or burning sugar... burning fruit... ack! The blueberry syrup!" She ran up the half-flight of stairs to the kitchen and removed the steaming pot from the stove. As she gazed in dismay at the blackened, shriveled mass in the bottom of the pan, her husband came into the smoke-filled room. "What are you cooking?" he asked. He glanced into the pan and murmured, "Huh. I thought you were making some kind of yummy caramel dessert." She silently handed him the box of store-brand gingersnaps, and started scrubbing out the blueberry-encrusted pan...