I like to think that I am fairly calm in a crisis. Cool and collected. Clear headed. Knowing what must be done. Getting busy and doing it.
And for the most part, I am. Except for this once.
About 10 years ago, we lived out in the country. Superman worked 3rd shift and was in bed sleeping.
I was making lunch. I don’t remember what I was cooking, but I do remember that flames sprung up from the drip pans, that I hadn’t cleaned in forever, because who wants to clean those nasty things?
So, I did what any calm, cool, collected person does. I stood there screaming “Fire…fire…fire” at the top of my lungs like a lunatic.
Superman came running out of the bedroom, grabbed the fire extinguisher that was on the wall right. beside. me. and put it out.
Yep. I was cool as a cucumber.
Superman bought me new drip pans and washed them for me once a month. I guess he didn’t like being woken up from a sound sleep by a crazy woman.
Yesterday, I had only turned away from the stove for a minute.
I swear, it was only a minute.
Maybe I should purchase a fire extinguisher.