911 calls that didn't happen

Two incidents in the last 24 hours were almost 911-worthy. But definitely blog-worthy.

My friend Amber came over for dinner last night with her kids since our husbands were both gone. I had hoped to provide a nice break and escape for her since she's single-moming it this week with her husband away. It's hard to get off on the right foot though, when you almost set your kitchen ON FIRE. If you've kept up with my blog at all, you shouldn't be surprised that I had yet another kitchen blunder. I was making spaghetti of all things... it's not like I was making something complicated like mac-n-cheese or a casserole.

I put the noodles in the boiling water, turned to the sink for a second, turned back around and for crying out loud, there was a FIRE ON MY STOVE. I panicked. I truly didn't know what to do. I darted my hand between the fiery tongues leaping from my back burner and turned it off. (Didn't that sound dramatic?) And then? I started blowing. I felt like one of those ladies from those commercials years ago who couldn't blow out the birthday candles. (What were they selling in those commercials anyway?) I just huffed and puffed and huffed and tried to blow out that fire. In my mind I was trying to remember if I should be throwing water on it, calling 911 (for a little ol' stove fire?), or stopping dropping and rolling. After all, this picture was peering at me from the front of my refrigerator. Thank you, Emma's preschool education.


Anyway, as quickly as it started, it stopped. It was like someone just turned it off. (Thank you, Lord!) I was so relieved because truly, I did NOT know what to do. Emma was standing there with huge, scared eyes and quietly said, "I'm going outside." She was so freaked out! Amber later reminded me I could've beat it with towels! I forgot about that! What should I have done?

Here's a picture of my scarred pot, should you think I'm making this up (look on the bottom right side of the big pot):


So after opening all the windows, Febreezing the heck out of my house and hoping the smoky smell would go away, I answered the door to Amber and her kids. She helped me finish getting dinner ready, and all was going swimmingly until I, in all my kitchen clumsiness, decided to hold the way-too-small strainer WHILE I dumped the huge pot of noodles over it with the very same hands. This only resulted in me pouring boiling water all over my left hand. Amber, I tried downplaying how much it hurt, but YOWZA!!!!! I might've cried had you not been there. I played it cool and sauntered over to the fridge to get some ice, but it hurrrrrrrt. Only now, 24 hours later, is it not still hurting. Next time I'll use the colander like I should've in first place! Lesson learned!

AND THEN!

Addie. Ohhhhhh sweet Addie. She is a piece of work. Today she came to me whimpering and asking if I could help her blow her nose because she was stuffed up. She said it hurt, and of course I cringed, thinking maybe she was getting sick. I grabbed a Kleenex and had her blow. A teeny bit came out and she whimpered again and said it hurt. I told her to blow again.

A LEGO CAME OUT. A green lego. A small, round, nostril-shaped LEGO.



I was floored! Of course it hurt! Of course she was stuffed up! She put a freaking LEGO in her nose! Had I known it was in there, that would have been one thing. But I didn't know! Imagine my surprise when BAM! Out flew a LEGO. I was laughing so hard while I checked the other nostril and asked if there were more in there. Laughing, but so relieved that we didn't have to make a trip to the ER.

She said she will never do it again. But after receiving a tip from my friend Mer to read these posts, I hardly believe her. Anyone wanna place bets?