My head is spinning, my knees are weak, and my hands can’t stop shaking. I feel as though I just ran a mile. Or five. How many calories does one really good adrenaline burst burn anyway?
Where to start…
We were in Olivia’s room. Reading books. I thought I smelled smoke, but passed it off as a weird scent drifting from her humidifier. (We need to change that filter.) But then came the series of piercing beeps that confirmed it: somewhere, something was burning.
Hoping for something small, I was the first out the door into the living room. Met with billowing smoke, my optimistic suspicions were doused. I followed the stench towards the kitchen where I saw flickering orange light reflected off the tiled wall above the sink. Turning the corner, comprehension dawned in a stomach-dropping, ton-of-bricks-falling kind of way.
There, on the stove top, was the tray to the high chair. And there, in the middle of that tray, exactly where the burner was located underneath it, was a burning ring of fire.
And it burned, burned, burned. That ring of fire.
I shrieked for Josh, while dropping to my knees to find the fire extinguisher under the sink. Not finding one, I remembered that was our last apartment. This one didn’t come with a fire extinguisher under the sink.
So I grabbed two of the biggest cups I could find and started filling them with water, calling again for Josh in a shrill voice. As I turned, water in hand, ready to act, he appeared. I asked, “Water?!” to confirm my actions as the course to take. He nodded and said “That should work.”
I knew there were some fires on which you are not to pour water. I remembered those types of fires as electrical. We have a gas stove. On his agreement, I poured.
The kitchen then proceeded to explode.
Upon which, I turned on my heel to sprint to safety, only to slip in a puddle of water and come crashing down on my face.
Water, it appears, was not the correct method for extinguishing this particular fire.
I picked myself back up and headed towards the cabinet, braving the blaze. Pulling out the flour, I ripped off the lid, and threw handfuls onto the flames. It didn’t make a dent.
Next, I pulled out the baking soda. Luckily, the box was full, because it took just that much to almost put out the fire. With just a few flames remaining, I pulled a plate from the cupboard, held it under the tray to catch the dripping plastic, and carried the molten mess to the sink to finish the dying embers with a spray from the hose.
How could this happen, you ask? I can’t be sure, since all we have is photographic evidence, which I hear isn’t very strong in the court of law.
Approximately 6:30pm, March 31, 2008:
Approximately 9:29pm, March 31, 2008:
Your guess is as good as mine.
Olivia was distraught. She kept crying: “Oh no! High chair bwoken! Oh no!”
Benjamin wasn’t concerned for his high chair, so much as the safety of his fire-fighin’ mama.
I’m okay. We’re okay. The high chair is dead.
[Moment of silence.]
The end.
that sounds so scary- i’m glad you guys are all fine
Wow, glad you are okay? Is anything else damaged?
My husband always remembers what goes on what fires (his dad was a firefighter), but I can never remember.
I need to add a fire safety class to our homeschool curriculum!
Phew! So glad you are all okay! May the Graco rest in peace. An opportunity to upgrade the birthday boy to a big-boy booster seat perhaps?
Great job on putting out the fire – glad you are all OK.
Sounds scarey.
I’m super impressed that you whipped the camera out to record the details of your melted high chair and crying children for posterity.
You are one committed blogger!
This sounds too familiar! Only it was about 20 some years ago, in a Jersey City, New Jersey parsonage. A certain little girl, I will not mention her name, but her blog is beautyfromchaos.com, climbed up on the oven door, turned on all the burners on the stove and climbed down. I was answering the doorbell at the time and did not see her. On the stove was a nice big tupperware rectangle cake holder, complete with her brother’s birthday cake in it.
Suddenly there was smoke, noticed by the person at the door. I ran in to find my kitchen on fire, not just the tupperware.
That little girl stood there looking so innocent as I got the flames out!
WOW!! What a story. I’m so glad you’re all ok!!!!
That’s an “exciting” evening! I’m glad you’re alright!
I keep missing the Meet-and-Greet Monday. I’ll remember one of these days! 🙂
Wow I guess that is why my DH always yells about my leaving things on the stove top. Glad that everyone was OK.
Definitely a good reason to invest in a fire extinguisher. As a landlord I’m glad my husband insisted we provide them. In fact, just last night our tenant set off the smoke detectors, luckily it did not wake my sleepy DD and also was just a charbroiled burger. But it does make me very nervous.
I laughed at DH a few Christmas’s ago when he bought our whole family fire extinguishers. Clearly they are great to have in the house.
WOW! I leave you for ONE night…. and you try to burn down your kitchen. See if I ever leave you again. I am VERY glad you all are ok. Have we learned a lesson about putting things on the stove?
Wow that’s some excitement for sure… I would have been terrified and running like hell. You’re all brave and super-hero like, saving the day… good job! So glad that you are all okay…. poor highchair though!
Holy guacamole!!!
I showed Kyle your post. He said to be sure to air out the apt really well, because plasic has carceniogens (sp?). Not to freak you out any more or anything.
Holy cow!!!!!! I’m so glad everyone is ok!!!
Wow, that’s scary!
And, it happened to me once! I was making rice on an electric stove and the burner shorted out. Blew a hole in the pot – and the pot across the room!
Oh wow, that doesn’t sound funny at all. It sounds totally scary. Glad to hear that you are all okay. Poor Olivia, I hope she’s not still upset.
Oh my goodness! That is scary!!
Glad you are all okay!
That is SO scary. I have been around one ktichen fire myself and they are really crazy. Glad everyone is ok.
P.S. I have a Benjamin too!