(Do you even have one?)
Ok, I have about 30 seconds before dashing the boys to school and Corinne to dance class. But I wanted to give you a little guessing game to participate in before I return.
Why in the world is this a picture of my kitchen counter from a few moments ago?
Keep in mind that the back door is open and it is 35 Farenheit outside.
One final clue: A 6 year old was the prime cause of the narrowly missed tragedy...
Edited to update:
Ok, before I say what happened, realize that I was in the bathroom with the door closed, blow-drying my hair. Ok?
Evan asked if he could have a leftover pancake from last night. "Sure," I said. A few minutes later, Justin yells out, "Mommy!! There's smoke!!"
I threw open the door to find the hall filled with stinky, black smoke. Careening around the corner into the kitchen I saw smoke billowing out of the microwave! Pouring out, and I FREAKED. Thankfully, my freaking in an emergency is more of the "Get your ass in gear and take action, break down later" kind of freaking.
I grabbed the extinguisher from under the sink, threw everything off of the top of the microwave (papers and other combustible stuff. Note to self: BAD SPOT for the bills.), pressed the "off" button on the microwave which was STILL cooking, and cautiously reached behind to unplug it. Meanwhile, I was barking orders at the kids,
"Justin! Open the back door! Evan, open the front door and stand there with your sister! Nobody come in the kitchen!"
I popped the microwave door while holding the extinguisher at the ready, to find a pancake so charred, so burnt, that it was actually liquifying... on a plastic, non-micrwavable plate. A few more moments and it would have been a full-fledged, call 911, Fire.
I then freaked out in a less controlled manner, potentially scarring my 6 year old for life with the shrieks of "You could have burnt the house down!! Everything and everyone in it could have been gone!!" Brilliant mommying moment, eh?
Needless to say, Evan is NOT supposed to microwave stuff without permission. But he HAS been allowed to turn it on to microwave popcorn and such, as long as we've given him permission. Apparently, this has been too lax for him to think that he could take cooking food into his own hands. I mean, I wouldn't allow him to cook at the stovetop unsupervised, so why allow him to microwave popcorn without supervision?
This was definitely a wake-up call. The microwave is off-limits for a while. It has been unplugged all day, and will remain so until I get a bagfull of lemons to squeeze into a bowl of water. I cannot imagine what the smell will be like when I turn it back on, so I hope the lemon-water will destroy some of the stench from within its gears.
Meanwhile? The house is still cold (I had the doors open and fans going! BRRRR!!!) and smells like an old gym shoe.
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