What's for Breakfast by Marilyn Conner
Years ago we lived in a country cabin. We used an old wood-burning stove for both cooking and heating. We had to sit bricks on the bottom of the stove to hold up the oven rack. One cold morning, Harry slid the bricks and rack into the oven to bake bread. Leaning back in his chair, reading his paper, toasting his feet, he watched little Todd toddle into the kitchen and heard him ask, "Daddy, what's in the oven?"
Harry replied, "Bricks, Son."
After a confused pause, Todd asked, "Well, are they done yet?"