When I was a teenager, my mother, running late for work one morning, was furiously ironing her uniform. Back then there were no coatings on the iron plate, so you would run the iron over wax paper to make it slick. Mother grabbed up a bread bag as she had done so many times before to use the waxed coating, and it was one of those new fangled plastic bags. Well, that sucker melted all over the iron, making the biggest mess you can imagine. Her yelling woke me up. I had the pleasure of cleaning it off.