First, let me start by saying that no one was injured in the making of this blog post. And second, I can’t believe I’ve never before witnessed an actual kitchen fire – especially given that I’m the worst cook on the planet and prone to leaving water boiling on the stove for way too long.
Anyway, I had taken Zoe to gymnastics, giving my husband enough time to actually cook something for dinner, which he enjoys but rarely gets to do lately. In fact, he made one of my favorite dishes: Bucatini with fennel and sausage. We had it one night at a restaurant, and my extremely gifted husband literally “figured out” the recipe and recreated it for me, back in what he calls our “courtship phase” when we were young(er).
So last week he surprised me with this incredible dish and sat down with Zoe at the table to eat while I nursed Ella, enjoying the smell of fennel and pasta from afar. Then I heard Bart say “OH!” from the table and get up and run to the kitchen where in his calmest Minnesotan panic voice he reports, “We have a fire.”
Now most rational people carrying a baby run AWAY from fires, but part of me didn’t really GET what a fire would look like – plus, Minnesotan panic is a very mild tone. So I headed to the kitchen to see it, and we literally had a FIRE in the oven – A FIRE! And there’s my husband standing with fire extinguisher pointed at it, the glow of the burning thinly sliced bagel toast on his concerned (yet still not panicked) face.
Yes, at that point I moved the baby AWAY from the fire and stepped back into the living room, just in time to see Bart heading out of the kitchen and right out the front door with a flaming pan in his hands and put it out on our front doorstep. Apparently the fire extinguisher only squirted once, which put out the fire, which promptly relit itself like one of those annoying relighting birthday candles.
After I knew he was OK, I giggled. Who has an ACTUAL fire?!
What made me stop giggling was the smoke that was rapidly filling the house like a fog about 12 inches from the ceiling. My Mama Bear came out, and I quickly got both kids out on the deck, carrying Zoe’s dinner and grabbing an iPad on the way. That’s when I was again reminded how amazing our kids are. Zoe ate her dinner and watched a show while Ella promptly fell asleep in my lap.
(NOTE: I’m aware that in the case of an actual fire I should leave the food and entertainment and just grab the children.)
Meanwhile my wonderful husband was doing his best to clear the house of smoke, opening every door and window, running two fans, and ultimately waving a vinegar and water doused towel around his head (which by the way works). About an hour later, we were back to normal, getting everyone ready for bed – and I finally got to eat the most delicious bucatini with fennel and sausage I’ve ever tasted. Who knew I had a chef AND a firefighter on my hands ;)