The other day I decided to make a cake for my neighbor, Jim and his wife Maggie. They are the sweet older couple who live across the street who helped me out with Btom and gave popcicles to the kids. They're great neighbors. So I whipped up some of my Ponderosa cake. I had enough for 2 cakes, so I put them in those disposable tin cake pans. They turned out beautifully. I took them out of the oven and left them on the stove to cool.
A while later the kids were hungry so I decided to make them some noodles for lunch. I put a pot of water on and then wandered back into the office to do some more blogging (addict??). After some time, I realized I had forgotten about the noodles. Oh well...kept blogging. Then I heard the smoke alarm. BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP!! I ran out of the office letting out an expletive, that shall remain nameless, slip out and ran into the kitchen/family room. There are my kids, mindlessly watching TV and oblivious to the room that is FILLED with smoke. Hmmm, I stop to ponder....they really watch too much TV...oh wait...back to the smoke. I looked over at the stove and see that one of the cakes is on fire. Actual FLAMES. So I grab a dishtowel and start whacking away at them. By now, the Red Beast is standing behind me yelling and pointing, "Fire, fire FIRE! Bwahahahahaha!!!" and laughing hysterically. Maybe I should be talking to my kids a little more about the dangers of fire and seriousness of burns?
When I finally get the fire out, I realize that I had turned on the wrong burner and the pot of water was sitting there still cool. Makes you wonder why I didn't just us that to put out the flames?
I've missed you, dear Diary.
22 hours ago