I hate to even write this because my mother-in-law reads my blog and she’s going to overreact when she finds out what I did and then call her son and he’s going to flip and stop at Lowe’s on his way home from work and buy five more smoke detectors and three more fire extinguishers and mount them all in the kitchen. Above the stove.
I was multi-tasking. Not multi-tasking as in chewing gum, listening to music and dusting a bookshelf. But Ultra Multi-Tasking. I had something going in Three Different Rooms. And if you know anything about me, you know this spells disaster.
I was running the tub, watching 30 Rock in my bedroom and cooking slices of organic chicken and roasted red pepper sausages in the wrong pan with too little olive oil and too much heat. I walked away from the pan, sat on the bed in front of the TV and thought, “Oh, wait. I have something on the stove….ah….I’ll get it in a minute.” But a minute in front of the TV is ten minutes in real time.
I don’t know what happened to me. Just as quickly as I remembered, I forgot. Completely forgot. There wasn’t a cell in my body that was still in charge, keeping watch, staying vigilant, not watching Tina Fey and counting down from 60.
I know me. I know how I am. When I walk away from something and then remember, “Oh, wait!” followed by, “Ah, later,” I know that means “Not later!! Now!” It took me decades to rewire my “Ah, later,” thinking to “Uh, now!” but after burning enough pans on the stove or missing enough appointments, I learned that “Ah, later,” Is The Red Flag. It’s the signal for “NOW!”
I have trained myself that when I’m about to leave the house and suddenly I remember that I should bring a bottle of water, followed by the thought, “Ah, I’ll be fine,” I know that means go back inside and get the water. “I’ll be fine” is my red flag to go back inside and get the water bottle. It will take one minute. I’ll be very glad for it later.
Ninety-nine percent of the time that retraining works. But there are those rare occasions, like yesterday, when I was still a little under the weather and not quite myself. I hear, “Ah, later,” or “I’ll be fine,” and the red flag doesn’t pop up. Nothing. I don’t have a back-up plan for nothing.
Instead of remembering the pan on the stove, I’m listening for the water in the bathtub. I’m watching Tina Fey and thinking about how far up the water should be by now… It always sounds fuller than it really is. I wouldn’t want to go in there and check it only to find out I got up for nothing.
And then suddenly I remember!! AH!! The sausage on medium!! AH! AH! AH!
I run out to the smoke-filled kitchen. More smokey than any previous stove disaster. It smells nasty. NAS-TYYYY! I race through the house in a zigzag of priorities that I’ve obviously become very good at. I grab the active volcano by the handle, put it out in the garage and slam the door, then turn on the exhaust fan, then shut all the doors to the bedrooms and open all the windows in the front of the house. Turn off the burner. Turn off the tub.
It was so smoky and smelly, that the neighbor who stands outside my living room window smoking a cigarette, moved to the other side of his house. True story.
I thought, “What would the fire department do?”
And with that I ran down to the basement and got two fans — the ones I use when I dust my living room with the leaf blower. But it was too late for the fans. Even after they cleared the smoke, the smell clung to every surface of every item in the house. It was even in my pores. When I finally got a chance to take a bath, I could smell the smoke on my complexion before ducking my head underwater.
Just before the kids came home from school, I closed all the windows, turned on the heat and sprayed the entire contents of all-natural orange scented room deodorizer throughout the house. It masked the smell for one minute. Luckily, I had a full back-up can of all-natural lime scented room deodorizer, and made my rounds with that.
I lay in bed last night, unable to get to sleep because my pillow smelled like that stuff people spray to cover up the smell of smoke. Maybe it is time for that microwave Skye has been pestering me about. I hate them but I hate the smell of burnt home more.
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I caught that pesky ADHD about the time my second child came along.
Now I live with a notebook, and post-it notes all over the place.
In housing here they purchased ubber expensive burner covers (to stop a fire). Maybe your mother-in-law will allow you to retain your kitchen privileges with those added??
Amy,
I definitely can’t be trusted to do anything else while cooking anything on top of the stove. And yet, my better sense does not prevail and catch myself in a similar situation as you’ve described.
Fortunately I have a smoke detectors near the kitchen and they usually save the day. I can’t put them IN the kitchen because they are too sensitive and wouldn’t allow me to cook anything.
We also have one outside the main bathroom that had to be moved because it goes off when you open the bathroom door after a steamy shower.
Your story is hilarious.
Question: did your husband bring those added smoke detectors, etc. after your mother-in-law relayed this disaster?
I’m one of “those types” too. I’ve forgotten water boiling, fridge door open. Thankfully, I’ve remembered without any smokey side affects. Might I recommend ordering in.
I love how practical you are! Why didn’t I think of that?? You’d be the best roommate ever, Jess. Why did we wait to have kids and live in two different states to meet? Why didn’t we meet when we were in our 20s!? The trouble we could have stirred as “those types”. I smile just thinking about it.
Did I just write this?
Scary, but this sounds eerily familiar. Sorry for the smoky mess. Look on the bright side — at least you remembered the tub. THAT could have been ugly.
I know. Because right below the bathtub is some beautiful, expensive fabric I bought to make purses…don’t ask me how I know this.
whew.
at least you didn’t say it happened while you were talking to me on the phone…
that would have sucked. really; i hate when our conversations are interrupted.
I was waiting for the part where you also ran the tub over while trying to put out the sausage fire. See, not all was lost!
Thank goodness for the whistle on the damn kettle or I would constantly boil over the stove. I turn on the water and promptly walk away (I have no patience for water to boil!) Glad you didn’t burn down the house. Maybe invest in a loud timer?? Have a good one…….:-)
I’ve trained myself to use a timer when I cook. I cannot leave the stove unless I turn on the timer and set it to 2 or 3 minutes, because I too will get completely lost and forget I’m cooking the moment I’m not staring at the food I’m cooking. It has absolutely saved my butt, and the dinner.
If your smoke detectors did not go off, it’s time to replace them.
Seriously.
I’m really glad you can write about it and still have your house.
I once put a pan of bacon grease on the stove top to melt and ran down to get the mail. My neighbor was getting his mail, and we got into a conversation.
And he looked up at the window of my apartment and said, “There’s smoke pouring out of your window!!”
There was.And the smoke detectors were going off.
No fire. I was lucky.
So were you.
LOL. This is almost as bad as what happened to me yesterday. I was already thinking about how long a person can survive in a garage of carbon monoxide.
You’re not warming up your car in the garage, are you?? Or trying to off Craig?
Neither of those.
It’s wise not to admit it online. Very good, May.
Ummm…we might be kitchen-disaster twins. I’m not even allowed to use the stove anymore…*sigh*
I might have to delete your comment so my mother-in-law doesn’t get any ideas. Although being banned from the kitchen wouldn’t suck.
Yikes! Here’s a general rule of thumb: when you’re cooking, you shouldn’t be doing anything else unless whatever you’re cooking needs to simmmer on very low heat for a long time. Also, why didn’t your smoke detector(s) go off?
I don’t know what’s up with the smoke detectors. They all go off over the slightest rise in humidity. God forbid if you leave the bathroom door open after a bath. They’ve even gone off on a humid summer day. But for smoke, even a LOT of smoke? They’re silent.