I alluded to this a bit ago when I was hashing about a really horrible day I was having, but I think I need to clarify: I actually lit my kitchen on fire.
|Source: Microsoft ClipArt
Doing my best to light it up and
be positively illuminating for the rest of you…
It was the result of a not-particularly-tale-worthy cooking “blunder” involving an attempt to make rice. And trust me, having grown up with fire hazard avoidance drilled into my head, I know this isn’t a good thing, but it happened. The sad news is, it happened approximately one week after I set a box of kleenex aflame in the exact same said kitchen. When my husband called on his way home from work the day of the kleenex incident, I told him about the tissues. Sans missing a beat, he said, “I’ll be home in few minutes.” I said, “No, like I seriously lit a box of kleenex on fire.” He replied, “Yeah, I know” and hung up. Perhaps his utter lack of shock should have been an indication that I may have a problem with pyromania.
Disregarding indicators of problematic behavioral disorders, as flames shot from my stove the other day, it became apparent that my primary purpose in this life is to make other people feel more normal. As in, if you are ever feeling bad about your life, specifically your performance in household management, I’ve got this covered. Anything not-awesome that you’ve done, I’ve probably already done multiple times over, and managed to light it in flames in the process.
So with the pugnant odor of crisply singed bangs still wafting in recent memory, I bid you to carry on housewives of America–just doing my part to make you look like a freakin’ rockstar.
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