Technically, Luke is now 9 months old and this should be a 9 month post...but the last post had pictures in it and my obsessive-compulsive nature will not allow me to put up two picture posts back to back, so instead, let's talk about microwaves for a minute, shall we?
Those of you who have been following this blog for a while might remember the time I set my Arby's sandwich on fire and then proceeded to eat it anyway. And at the time, I blamed it on my pregnancy because (a) it made a convenient scapegoat and (b) I genuinely believed that under normal circumstances, I would never do something quite so...vile.
As it turns out, I was wrong. This morning, Luke and I went to a water aerobics class, which we do every Monday and which always leaves him exhausted and me ravenous. So he was napping and I was looking forward to a lunch of leftover pizza and chicken wings. This past weekend was my mom's birthday, so she and my step-dad had come to celebrate with us and we had bought paper party plates which were all shiny and very cool.
But my stomach was grumbling and the food looked delicious and the regular plates were so high in the cabinets that I decided to use the (shiny) paper plate instead. As it turns out, the only reason that paper plates are ever shiny is IF THEY HAVE FOIL IN THEM.
So I put the shiny plate into the microwave and 30 seconds later, smelled something very suspicious. And the first (highly illogical) thought in my head was "Huh. When did we get a fireplace?" Because apparently, in my head, it makes more sense that a fireplace would have morphed out of NOTHING than to imagine that I might have put something in the microwave that did not belong there.
Now, remember how I mentioned that Luke was napping? Yeah, even in the midst of looking at the FIRE in my microwave, my top priority was to NOT WAKE THE BABY, so there I was in a blind panic, very quietly saying "Fire! McMoose! Fire!"
McMoose, who was working from home, apparently has exceptional hearing, not to mention lightning fast reflexes because in the time that it took me to fill up a glass with water to throw on the flame, he had dashed into the kitchen, prepared to offer aid. Of course, the only "aid" he actually offered was to (a) point out that the plate shouldn't have gone in the microwave (duh), (b) laugh at me for failing to notice the FOIL on the plate, and (c) dump the cup of water ALL OVER MY LUNCH.
Which I then proceeded to eat.
It was good. In a soggy kind of way.
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LOL! Mom set one of my king cakes on fire last week, and the kitchen smelled like burned skin for an entire week after the fact! She turned on the wrong burner, and, when the smoke alarm went off, she assumed it was the heater messing up. I didn't notice or smell the smoke filling up the house because
I was studying for a test intensely and had a severely stopped up nose. It was only after she ran into the livingroom to tell me she thought the heater was messed up that she saw the kitchen was on fire. She then proceeded to beat the fire with a dish rag and scatter flaming embers everywhere while I looked for the fire extinguisher that mysteriously disappeared. She continued to beat the fire with a dish rag while I filled a pot with water and dumped it on the fire. Afterwards, I was just like, "What were you thinking, Mom? That dish rag only made things worse!" Ahahaha. So that's where David gets his ingenious skills from.
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