Wrap me in asbestos
Let's start by saying, it was only a small fire. I didn't even need the fire extinguisher stashed in the cabinet behind the cleaning supplies. I'm contemplating moving it out of there and next to the salt, olive oil dispenser, and bucket o' tools. Mah, it might not go with my ambiance.
So, where was I? Right-- small fire.
Because of the rain, the pool plans were cancelled. Which, I get-- but I kinda want to blame my goober friends for not having a sense of adventure-- it's a pool after-all... So today became... Costco day! LMC and I load up in the car drive to Virginia and unload. On the way, a phone call reveals that my brother has salmonella. Ew. Up and down the aisles, picking up prepackaged this and discounted that. Croissants, lobster ravioli, sliced cheese... it all gets loaded into the cart where LMC keeps stacking things around her.
$189 later, we reload and head home to the 100 degree garage. All of my "cold" items are in two large boxes and LMC is being so helpful bringing boxes into the elevator and asking for assistance when she tries to pick something out of the box and remove it... so she can carry it "ALL BY HERSELF," thus quantifying our trips.
The elevator is dinging and starting to close on my boxes. We double time and barely miss losing any fingers. Off on the seventh floor, I do things a little differently. Normally, it is ten trips from the car to the elevator. 10 trips from the elevator to the hallway. 10 trips from the hallway to the door. 10 trips from the door to the kitchen. Today though... I'm hungry and tired with a Harris Teeter turkey sandwich in my immediate future. My eyes on the turkey prize, I open the door and set down one of my "cold" boxes on on the stove...
Yeah, I know.
Back and forth LMC and I trot taking things from the elevator to the kitchen. As I am unloading some items in the fridge and freezer, I notice... a smell. Spying the potato salad from the fourth of July, I assume... that's where it might come from. I pull it out. Unloading... unloading... unloading... finally the smell is just too much. I sniff the milk to see if it had gone south at Costco. Nope. I check the chicken. Nope. I walk into my bathroom to see if I pulled my hair straightener out from underneath the sink (and clutter), plugged it in, and used it... and didn't unplug it. Nope.
I walk back into the kitchen and I see smoke pillowing from the box on the stove. I scream. LMC screams and says, "RUN MOMMY!" as she tears down the hallway. I move it off, toss everything in the sink... full of potato salad. The box catches... it gets sprayed and quickly dies out. LMC screams, "MOMMY! Save giraffe! Save GIRAFFE!" She wails.
With the danger at bay, I open the windows while LMC saves her giraffe. The door is opened, the vent is on...
and a neighbor knocks on the open door while I am cleaning.
Apparently, there was smoke outside. Ya think?
So, rule of thumb.... let's not put boxes on the stove, uhm-kay? Otherwise, on this muggy, muggy day... you'll find yourself air conditioning the outside with watery eyes and a timid child clutching her giraffe.