While there has been plenty of love through the years, like much of the world I too come from a dysfunctional family. At no time is this more evident than during the holidays. This year has been a particularly challenging one and I decided at the last minute to invite everyone to our house to try to maintain normality. I planned a very simple, short-cut menu most of which just needed to be heated up in some way.
A family favorite is sweet potatoes and crushed pineapple topped with marshmallows. Steve was at work and I was on a tight schedule. I popped the sweet potatoes in the oven to bake. About 20 minutes later I noticed there were sparks coming from the heating element in the oven. I thought this was weird and watched it for 10 minutes. I called Steve and told him what was happening. He had me switch the circuit breaker, but the sparks kept going. Soon I noticed it was traveling along the coil and getting bigger. At this point I became concerned enough to call the fire department. Not 911. Just the regular number. I still did not feel this was an emergency. There was no answer so I hung up. Five minutes later there is now an official fire in my oven and I am very concerned. I usher all the kids to the front door in case we need to run and I grab the fire extinguisher to face off against the oven and I dial 911. Just as I finish dialing, the fire in the oven explodes, I hang up the phone and open the oven door to spray the fire retardant. I am not going down without a fight. After I finish spraying, the phone rings and it is 911 dispatch. They ask if they should send someone and I tell them I don't know because I can't tell with all the fire retardant if the fire is out or still smoldering. She tells me she is sending them and to wait outside. We go outside and I call Steve. I tell him not to worry that everything is under control...I just had to call 911 as a precaution.
In the few minutes it takes them to arrive I realize the fire is out. There is no longer any danger. Well lucky for me there were no fires anywhere in the surrounding areas so two different cities sent their firefighters. It was quite the spectacle. Two police cars, three fire trucks, an ambulance, and about 25 police and fire fighters descended on my street and house. Unfortunately for them there was no fire and yet they were upstairs and downstairs, in and out. They gave my kids stickers and pencils. They stayed for an hour hobnobbing with each other on my neighbors lawns. Was I embarrassed you ask? No sir! I was mortified. Remember that tight schedule? Well I had not showered in two days, there were holes in my pajamas, and because of the delay in feeding my baby, there was milk pouring down the front of my shirt. So yeah. This was one for the record books.
The super helpful thing they did was offer to carry the hot oven into the garage. They put on their heat resistant gloves and six firefighters crowded into my small kitchen to carry it out. Once in the garage, the firefighters were able to identify that somehow the heating element had exploded and for some reason had not tripped the circuit breaker. It was good I had been home when this happened. I did not feel like such an idiot after that. Still felt gross though.
Steve got home, met the friendly fire chief, thanked everyone for coming and then helped me clean fire retardant off everything. Turns out that stuff is a superfine powder and gets everywhere. It took all afternoon.
But was Thanksgiving cancelled? Of course not. A neighbor offered their kitchen, I revamped the menu, heated most everything over there and welcomed my family to our home. Sure I could hardly breathe with all those fine particles in my sinuses and lungs, but that is no reason to cancel. Also, I want to be able to offer my children the same types of holiday memories I have from my childhood. The crazy ones with the stories attached. (Remember that Thanksgiving Mom was making sweet potatoes and the oven exploded and the fire department came?...)
A family favorite is sweet potatoes and crushed pineapple topped with marshmallows. Steve was at work and I was on a tight schedule. I popped the sweet potatoes in the oven to bake. About 20 minutes later I noticed there were sparks coming from the heating element in the oven. I thought this was weird and watched it for 10 minutes. I called Steve and told him what was happening. He had me switch the circuit breaker, but the sparks kept going. Soon I noticed it was traveling along the coil and getting bigger. At this point I became concerned enough to call the fire department. Not 911. Just the regular number. I still did not feel this was an emergency. There was no answer so I hung up. Five minutes later there is now an official fire in my oven and I am very concerned. I usher all the kids to the front door in case we need to run and I grab the fire extinguisher to face off against the oven and I dial 911. Just as I finish dialing, the fire in the oven explodes, I hang up the phone and open the oven door to spray the fire retardant. I am not going down without a fight. After I finish spraying, the phone rings and it is 911 dispatch. They ask if they should send someone and I tell them I don't know because I can't tell with all the fire retardant if the fire is out or still smoldering. She tells me she is sending them and to wait outside. We go outside and I call Steve. I tell him not to worry that everything is under control...I just had to call 911 as a precaution.
In the few minutes it takes them to arrive I realize the fire is out. There is no longer any danger. Well lucky for me there were no fires anywhere in the surrounding areas so two different cities sent their firefighters. It was quite the spectacle. Two police cars, three fire trucks, an ambulance, and about 25 police and fire fighters descended on my street and house. Unfortunately for them there was no fire and yet they were upstairs and downstairs, in and out. They gave my kids stickers and pencils. They stayed for an hour hobnobbing with each other on my neighbors lawns. Was I embarrassed you ask? No sir! I was mortified. Remember that tight schedule? Well I had not showered in two days, there were holes in my pajamas, and because of the delay in feeding my baby, there was milk pouring down the front of my shirt. So yeah. This was one for the record books.
The super helpful thing they did was offer to carry the hot oven into the garage. They put on their heat resistant gloves and six firefighters crowded into my small kitchen to carry it out. Once in the garage, the firefighters were able to identify that somehow the heating element had exploded and for some reason had not tripped the circuit breaker. It was good I had been home when this happened. I did not feel like such an idiot after that. Still felt gross though.
Steve got home, met the friendly fire chief, thanked everyone for coming and then helped me clean fire retardant off everything. Turns out that stuff is a superfine powder and gets everywhere. It took all afternoon.
But was Thanksgiving cancelled? Of course not. A neighbor offered their kitchen, I revamped the menu, heated most everything over there and welcomed my family to our home. Sure I could hardly breathe with all those fine particles in my sinuses and lungs, but that is no reason to cancel. Also, I want to be able to offer my children the same types of holiday memories I have from my childhood. The crazy ones with the stories attached. (Remember that Thanksgiving Mom was making sweet potatoes and the oven exploded and the fire department came?...)
Comments
Post a Comment