Denial is a powerful thing. I say that to myself a lot. Probably because I make use of denial often. Like, for instance, when I hear crackling coming from the kitchen and even get a whiff of smoke, I will still tell myself that the kitchen could not possibly be on fire.
I was sitting in the living room writing. I was quite distracted and really into my imaginary world. So, when Grumpy wanted lunch, I told him to go ahead and make himself something to eat. He decided to make Ramen noodles.
He filled a pot of water, turned on the stove, and went downstairs to continue his playacting and mouth noises. After a while, I came out of the world of my own making to hear crackling. I thought maybe there was a bit of dried food getting crusted over even more or maybe there was a bit of water that was reacting to the heat.
I told Grumpy that maybe he should go into the kitchen and make sure the stove wasn't on fire. He ran up the stairs and stopped dead in his tracks. "The stove is on fire!" he yells. For a second, I didn't believe him and my mouth was already forming a smirk when he turns to look at me. There was no indication that he was pulling my leg. The kid was serious.
I jumped up out of my favorite comfy chair and ran into the kitchen. There was my Pampered Chef stone cracked into pieces and a plastic bowl that had been sitting on top of it was in flames. I ripped open the fridge and looked around wildly for the baking soda. There it was sitting on the top shelf. I grabbed it and noticed that it had been unopened.
Right about this time, the smoke detectors went off. The piercing noise was enough to wake the dead or the neighbors at least. I'm still trying to rip open the box of baking soda when everyone else come running upstairs to see what is going on. During my wrestling match with the box, I looked around to see mouths open and shocked eyes. Finally, in defeat I grabbed a steak knife and gritting my teeth cut open the box. All this time, the fire was still going strong. I promptly poured baking soda onto my pour defeated Pampered Chef stone.
Waving aside smoke billowing around me, I turned to Grumpy. "That's what you do when there's a fire," I began. I finished my lecture with, "And don't ever use the stove again." I could have begun hyperventilating and looked around for a paper bag, but frankly, since the danger has passed, I'm too busy mourning over my stone.
I was sitting in the living room writing. I was quite distracted and really into my imaginary world. So, when Grumpy wanted lunch, I told him to go ahead and make himself something to eat. He decided to make Ramen noodles.
He filled a pot of water, turned on the stove, and went downstairs to continue his playacting and mouth noises. After a while, I came out of the world of my own making to hear crackling. I thought maybe there was a bit of dried food getting crusted over even more or maybe there was a bit of water that was reacting to the heat.
I told Grumpy that maybe he should go into the kitchen and make sure the stove wasn't on fire. He ran up the stairs and stopped dead in his tracks. "The stove is on fire!" he yells. For a second, I didn't believe him and my mouth was already forming a smirk when he turns to look at me. There was no indication that he was pulling my leg. The kid was serious.
I jumped up out of my favorite comfy chair and ran into the kitchen. There was my Pampered Chef stone cracked into pieces and a plastic bowl that had been sitting on top of it was in flames. I ripped open the fridge and looked around wildly for the baking soda. There it was sitting on the top shelf. I grabbed it and noticed that it had been unopened.
Right about this time, the smoke detectors went off. The piercing noise was enough to wake the dead or the neighbors at least. I'm still trying to rip open the box of baking soda when everyone else come running upstairs to see what is going on. During my wrestling match with the box, I looked around to see mouths open and shocked eyes. Finally, in defeat I grabbed a steak knife and gritting my teeth cut open the box. All this time, the fire was still going strong. I promptly poured baking soda onto my pour defeated Pampered Chef stone.
Waving aside smoke billowing around me, I turned to Grumpy. "That's what you do when there's a fire," I began. I finished my lecture with, "And don't ever use the stove again." I could have begun hyperventilating and looked around for a paper bag, but frankly, since the danger has passed, I'm too busy mourning over my stone.
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