One Saturday I was going about my normal routine and had just finished making a nice batch of bread dough, enough for six loaves, when all of a sudden we were faced with an emergency situation and had to go dashing off to the hospital.
Before we left I placed the covered bowl of bread dough into the refrigerator to try to keep it from rising as quickly. That refrigerator wasn't very cold since it was only kept cool by a big stainless steel pan filled with water and ice in the top freezer compartment.
We arrrived at the E.R. and after a long time they were finally ready to see us. By the time everything was cared for and we got back home it was late. My brothers had helpfully come over to do our chores which we were really grateful for and we headed straight to bed, worn out from the unexpected events of the day.
The next day was our inbetween Sunday. We never ate big regular meals on inbetween Sunday's unless we had visitors so I didn't open that refrigerator since we kept our milk and eggs in our chest type fridge. With cereal, egg-in-the-holes, and a lot of popcorn and desserts the day passed and I never once thought of my bread dough waiting to be baked.
On Monday morning when I walked out on the sunporch to get milk and eggs for breakfast I couldn't believe my eyes. The bread dough had risen. It rose more than I even knew was possible as it spilled over the sides of the bowl and managed to push open the refrigerator door. There was bread dough every where as it spilled down over the shelves like a river and oozed out into a big unsightly puddle on the floor.
I gathered it up and tried to stuff it back into the bowl but it would no longer fit. Some how I managed to clean it up and dumped it out on the manure spreader. I would bake more bread later but this batch I had no intentions of trying!