Monday, June 13, 2011

the night I almost burned the house down

Let me set the scene...

It's a peaceful Sunday evening, about 6pm. I'm puttering around the kitchen, putting together some cheese and crackers, some olives, some salsa, and hey, why don't I toast some tortillas for corn chips. Mmm, that sounds good.

DH is reading on the couch, the dog is sleeping in her chair, the bird is preening, the house is quiet.

I run the cut up tortillas thru one cycle of the toaster but decide I want them crispier. I'm about to get my wish.

As I'm standing there next to the counter gazing into the family room, something catches my attention at the corner of my eye. I turn to look and O!M!G! there's flames shooting out around the edges of the toaster oven door.

In a flash of total non thinking-it-thru-ness, I yank open the door, adding oxygen to the fire, which billows out into the room and begins licking at the underside of the cupboards above.

This whole time (2.5 seconds) I've been saying, "Steve, come here. Steve! Steve, there's a fire!!!"

He's a guy who can tune out the world when he's reading a good book and never even looks up.

Finally I blast him with, "STEVE THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE!!!"

He looks up, swears a lot in a real short time, bolts from his chair and screeches into the kitchen. He grabs the tongs from the drawer and drags the flaming tortilla chips out onto the counter.

I'm shouting, "Do you want me to throw some water on it?!?"

He looks at me like I've lost my mind (water on a plugged-in electrical appliance, even one that's on fire, is apparently not a good idea), unplugs the toaster oven, and suddenly every smoke alarm in the house starts going - BEEP BEEP BEEP  The dog starts to howl.

We look at each other. The fire is out, the cupboards are ok, and we both burst into stress induced laughter. Ha ha ha.

I carried the poor toaster oven out to the patio table, where it sat for two weeks before I remembered to take it to work and put it in the dumpster.

The next morning Steve opens our bedroom door and begins trotting down the stairs. Over his shoulder he throws the line, "Smells like toast..."


  1. Oh I love it! I can just imagine the smell. Farrah

  2. Well I almost did the same thing not too long ago - except it was a plastic strainer accidently placed on top of a gas burner...that was still turned on! Oh my...and it did NOT smell like toast (LOL)...