It’s not every day you’re on the Dr. Phil show and you almost burn up the kitchen.
The day started gloomy. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I hate getting out of bed in winter. Call me a baby bear who loves hibernation.
Then I realize, whoa, I’m on the Dr. Phil website. Kinda groovy. In need of tea, I put the silver kettle on the stove’s back burner and head back to the computer. “Man, what’s that smell?” I thought. “Some soup or something must have leaked down into the eye.” Phew. After about oh, say, seven minutes I decide to go check.
Holy Smokes, Batman. Smoke engulfs the kitchen. Black charry soot flies around in the air, covering everything like volcano ash. In seconds, I look like a chimney sweep. The culprit: My stupidity. I had put the kettle on the back burner but turned on the front burner. No big whoop if there hadn’t been a cookie sheet on the front burner. With a dried up tea bag on it and Sweet and Low wrappers. Oh, and a roll from Community Bakery. Fire shot up through the cookie sheet. What was a girl to do but blow it out like the big bad wolf? So I did. Then a weird familiar odor from my childhood. Burnt shrinky drinks. Yuck.
Just in case you ever thought in your wildest fantasy I was a domestic goddess, think no more.
