Mush?

My little brother Riley, my friend Jeff, and I are having a discussion of the things my brother can and cannot cook.  Jeff is asking the questions because I already know what Riley can't cook, which is basically everything.
Rice?  I can, but I don't like it.  Frozen pizza?  Yeah.  Pasta? No.  Oatmeal?  Mush?  (I don't know where that came from, I didn't know mush was considered a food.)  Me: Mush yes, oatmeal, I don't know.  Jeff: What?  How?  They're basically the same thing!

No they are not.  This is the story of when Riley made "mush" for dinner.  My mom had started working full time, and I was a senior in high school, so she decided that we all needed to learn how to cook, so we each had a night that we were in charge of making dinner.  It was Riley's night, Monday I believe, and he was going to make spaghetti.  He cooked some angel hair, but it wasn't enough so he added some spaghetti to the already cooked angel hair.  Needless to say, it didn't turn out very well.  We ended up with a ball of paste.  No one was brave enough to taste it, not even the dog.  We were on our own for dinner that night.