how to boil an egg, and no more tales

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Once upon a time a lovely lady {me, obviously} decided to boil two eggs for her Husband's lunch the next day. She and her Husband sat down to eat their dindins in front of the tellybox. They had zombies to cheer on and humanoids to marvel at. Let's press the forward-wind button; an hour and some twenty minutes have passed. Our lovely lady smells burning. She wrinkles her nose in disgust. It surely must be something outside, someone's house burning down or whatnot. The cats, both enjoying some attention and cuddles on the settee, look towards the kitchen, eyes large and bright. POP!!! The eggs! she squealed. We've got a fire! her Husband squealed back. There was no fire. Just two very very very very very hard-boiled, inedible eggs and a hot dry pan with a black bottom. And that is the tale of how one lovely young lady nearly burned her house down. I genuinely can't even boil an egg.