Today I did something kind of funny but kind of scary at the same time. I decided to fry an egg for a late breakfast, so I put a pan on the stove and turned on the heat to start warming the pan. Then I went upstairs to get a pair of slippers because my feet were cold. While I was upstairs I found a basket of clean towels that needed folding. Of all the laundry, towels are the thing I hate folding *least*, so I thought to myself, “what the heck, might as well fold these towels while I’m up here.” As I was folding I was thinking about how cold I’ve been feeling, and remembered that we had an electric blanket stored in the hope chest near our bed. So, I decided to dig that out and give it a go, bring it downstairs to see if it still worked.
And that’s when I smelled it. It was very subtle, but I have a keen sense of smell so I pick up these things. It was a definite smell of HEAT. Oh, dear lordy I left the stove on!! In a near panic, I headed down the stairs – cautiously but quickly – to be sure there was no catastrophe (i.e. FIRE) going on the kitchen.
And thankfully, there was no fire. Not even a scorched-to-hell frying pan. Just a really hot, really lonely, really ready for the egg, frying pan. I turned the stove off, removed the pan from the hot burner, and headed back upstairs to finish with my derailed train of thought activities.
It turned out fine, but I really need to be more careful. New rule: Stay in the kitchen while I’m cooking. That, or just stick to fruit smoothies. Far less dangerous!