Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Smells Like Flaming Plastic

Have you ever noticed all of those mummies out there who seem to have their act together? I mean really together.

Fashionable outfit, clean kids, orderly home, showered...

Occasionally I go through a phase where I convince myself that I can do everything. Usually it is on a Monday when I wake-up rested and ready to take on the world.

Then I fall on my butt.

Take this Monday for example. The kids were clean and well-dressed for school pictures. (OK, one kid only owned clothing that said Red Sox or Patriots, so we did end-up making a Monday morning shopping trip for a shirt without a sports logo.)

I returned from clothes shopping with my five year old only to spend an hour answering emails and calls. Planned the weeks meals and did the food shopping. Took a shower. Half completed three loads of laundry. Put on make-up. I even wore heels!

The day was too beautiful to stay inside, so why not reseed the lawn and spread a layer of compost? Just for giggles I also decided to skip the school bus and walk the kids home.

Eventually bellys started to rumble and my arms started to give out. Time to banish the neighborhood kids and the needy elderly neighbor. Time for dinner.

Delusional Monday morning Gruppie was going to whip-up a seafood feast because the experts keep telling us that seafood is essential. Monday night Gruppie was going to boil water for oatmeal.

Then comes the flaming, molten plastic. I mistakenly took sixty seconds of "me time" in the bathroom and inadvertently set a plastic container of peanut butter on fire.

Smoldering stinky plastic, kids screaming, ashes flying. Brain cells packing their bags.

Anyone want a cheesestick for dinner?




UPDATE: I'm at it again. Almost left a burner with an empty pan on while I left to do a host of exciting activities like Kindergarten drop-off. The stove is officially off for the next few days. I don't trust myself.




3 comments:

dolphyngyrl said...

You know... One time, my grandmother bumped the knobs on her stove with her butt, turned the gas burner on, and set a potholder on fire.

And, also, there was the time that I preheated the oven... Forgetting that we'd been using it to store bagged cereal. I'm sure you can see how that went in.

You're in good company hon. But maybe you should put a note on the door: "Burners?"

Sofiabugmom said...

Been there! I left a saucepan of kitchen potpourri (cinammon, nutmeg and apple peels in water) simmering on the stove while we we went out for lunch. We came home just in time to see smoke everywhere but thankfully no flames!

I think I'll take dolphyngyrl's advice with a note on the door ...

Ruth Dynamite said...

Oh, I've cooked more phones than I can recall, and you know what? My kids haven't starved. (And, miraculously, the house is still standing!)