Feb. 18th, 2009

wondersheep: (Default)
I pulled the ratty tea towel off the handle of the oven, folded it up, and opened the oven door. The skins of my potatoes were nicely golden, so I used the folded towel to pull the cookie sheet out.

I placed the sheet on the stovetop and tossed the towel onto the counter. The parmesan-potato guts mixture was in a bowl, ready to be spooned into the skins.

Something flickering in the corner of my eye. I looked, and the tea towel was on fire.

I flipped it completely open, and then folded it one-two-three, then went back to filling my potatoes.

I didn't cuss, I didn't panic, I didn't even get an adrenaline jolt. I just smothered the flames and went back to my dinner.

But never again doubt that I set things on FIRE!

(I'm also not telling my landlord and other roommate. Because they are the type of people who a, do not cook a lot, and b, freak right the fuck out over the most ridiculous silly things. Like small, easily contained kitchen fires.)

December 2010

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