If you haven’t read my New England Mamas post from yesterday, you may want to. It’s an important preface to what I am about to tell you, which is that I peeked through the translucent window of my oven last night to find its insides ablaze.
Yes, I used the oven once again, post-pumpkin-incident, without scraping out the remains of the pie. Yes, it finally caught on fire. Yes, I am that stupid.
And you can just imagine what a difficult time someone of my limited mental capacity would have figuring out how to operate the fire extinguisher.
After opening the oven door to gaze upon the horror first-hand, I deduced that this was no wispy candle flame. This fire was hungry, and it would not be satiated by a shapeless mass of pumpkin, sugar and egg. I slammed the door shut.
My next stop was the closet, where I fought with a plastic wall bracket for the rights to the fire extinguisher. I finally dislodged it and took my place in front of the oven. I thought back to the tutorial my husband had given me on the extinguisher's proper usage. I pulled the pin. I pressed a lever. Nothing happened.
My already accelerated heartbeat kicked into high gear. I turned the canister in my hands and stared at the instructions. For someone who can't even figure out, even with the aid of pictures, which way to slide a credit card in the machine at the supermarket, you can imagine how helpful I found the extinguisher's illustrated directive. I ran to get the phone. I dialed The Partner.
I am not going to pretend to remember what he said. I was past memory. I was in the moment. What I will tell you is that The Partner was pissed off and unhelpful. No thanks to him, I figured out the correct way to engage the pressurized contents of that red tube. I let loose on the oven. The fire died. A sigh was expelled from deep in my diaphragm, settling over the kitchen along with a fine, white residue.
The Boss was standing between the dining room and the kitchen as this all went down. When I finally settled my attention on her three foot frame, I saw that she was giving me the hairy eyeball. Her stare was squinty and stern. After a while, she spoke.
"I'm hungry." She rubbed her tummy in a circular motion. She was all accusation. "I want some pumpkin pie."