I WANT MY FOOD!

Yesterday when I got home I was a very happy woman. Travis had cleaned the house (the kitchen and living room anyway, which are the most important), cut the grass and gone to the grocery store. The kids were happily playing. I was thinking to myself "this is the best day ever!"

Since Travis had done all of that I figured the least I could do was make dinner. He wanted fish sticks and pasta. I told him "No problem!" Since we were almost out of laundry detergent I figured I could kill 2 birds with 1 stone and whip some up while I was cooking. Here is where it gets interesting.

I had to make 2 boxes of pasta because Sam was over as well and my kids LOVE Pasta Roni. But since I had to use the big pot to cook the laundry detergent in, I had to use two little pots to make the noodles. That means there were three burners going at once. Since the stove is rarely used at my house and when it is there are never three burners going at once, I failed to notice that something flammable was stuck on the back burner.

There I was, cooking away, happy as can be when I smelled something kinda funky. It smelled like something was burning. Then it started to smoke. I am sure you have heard the saying "Where there's smoke, there's fire." I can assure you that is true because before I could do anything the burner burst into flames! I didn't know what to do. If I got the fire extinguisher then I would ruin the noodles and the laundry detergent. If I tried to beat it with a towel then I would likely spread it. So I did what any logical thinking, capable woman would do. I started screaming. The kids came running into the kitchen. Paige started screaming and crying. Sam and Hudson were yelling "fire!" and running outside. I kept screaming for Travis but he was in the basement and thought I was yelling "Spider!" and figured I should be able to deal with that myself. By the time he ran upstairs, the house was filled with smoke and the pot had boiled over. The boiling over of the noodles actually doused the flames and saved the house. But Paige was still screaming.

She was crying with those giant crocodile tears and couldn't catch her breath. She was screaming "I want my food! I want my food!" Now, if you have never heard my daughter scream then you cannot possibly understand exactly what she sounds like. It sounds exactly like a high pitched fog horn filled with gravel while the Guinness Book of World's Records winner for the longest fingernails rubs them on a chalkboard. She locks her knees until they appear double jointed and clenches her fists while standing stick straight so she can barely be picked up. Sounds precious doesn't it?? She did this for what felt like a half an hour. Whenever I asked her why she was screaming all she would say was "I WANT MY FOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I had no idea that she felt so strongly about Pasta Roni but apparently she does. Either that or she was just scared. Either way, I managed to get her calmed down and was even able to finish cooking dinner. The laundry detergent was completely unharmed (as was the pot of pasta on the front burner.) I added some butter to the other pot and dumped them together. They ended up tasting OK. Dinner was salvaged and it still ended up being a pretty good night. We have decided, though, that the stove needs to be cleaned and I am not in charge of dinner anymore.

Side note: The other night when I took the kids on a walk, Hudson and I were talking about what he wanted to be when he grew up. He said maybe a fireman or policeman but he definitely didn't want to be a doctor. When I asked why he said because "they have to put their hands inside people." The next night when Paige and I were watching PBS (yes, my kids watch PBS) there was a commercial on that showed kids dressed up as different professionals. She said "I don't want to be a doctor." When I asked why she said (very seriously) "Because they have to put their hands inside people's butts!"