My Bad

It always happens. Once I poke fun at Brandon, or even say - complain, I do something slightly worse.

Tonight I promised the boys popcorn for our bedtime snack. It had been a good day, but an exhausting day, and popcorn in our PJs sounded like the perfect ending.  

Brandon took the boys upstairs to change into pajamas and I poured oil into the pan, dropped in my 3 kernels and waited.  Then I realized it takes a while for the oil to heat and I should go sit down.  This might have also been due to the awesome glass of wine I had at dinner.  Once I sat down I realized I should check my email, one thing lead to another, and soon I was sucked into the blog world.

When I figured it was probably time to add the rest of the kernels, I jumped up and ran into the kitchen. Uh-oh, smoke was billowing out of the pan. I quickly lifted the lid to see if the oil was salvageable and (I kid you not) it burst into flames.

"Brandon" I yelled "BRANDON!!"

"What?"

"I started a fire!" I replied

"WHAT!!???"

I stood there in the kitchen with the flames growing higher, holding the pan, trying to recall what I knew about oil fires. I was pretty sure water would not help.

"Put the lid on!" Brandon yelled as he threw the baby at me. Aahh, good idea. I quickly grabbed Finn while Brandon threw the lid on and took the pan outside. 

"Mom, fire?" Finn asks me. 

Um, yeah. Micah walks in and is completely amazed by the thick fog of smoke. He begins jumping up and down trying to catch the smoke and yelling, "fire, fire!"  

Once the excitement died down and the kids were eating microwave popcorn while watching a show the only evidence left was the lingering smell.  

Yep, burnt popcorn.  

My bad.