Fire is a four letter word. Not difficult to say, but in an emergency we can stammer, and sputter while our brain is wrestling with whether we yell, “Fire!”, or “Smoke, or a combination of the two. That can result in a bewildered reaction by those around us, and leave everyone scrambling to react appropriately to the emergency at hand!
It is my pet peeve, and one I lecture on constantly, but my words go unheeded. Written off as if I’m paranoid, or labeled a Nervous Nelly. That is until I have the sweet taste of vindication in my mouth, once I have dealt with the situation, and given the “look”, you know the one, “that look” to the offender that nearly burned down our house! Okay, that last part might be a slight exaggeration, but my point was made.
How many times have I told my husband, Kim, and two other people in my family, who shall remain nameless, but you know who you are Dusty and Rebecca, not to put anything flammable on the stove! It could catch fire! Hence the word “flammable”! Look it up! Their unanimous response is, “The stove isn’t on. How is it supposed to catch fire?” Well, let me tell you how.
Sunday evening Kim was helping me cook supper for our daughter and granddaughter. He had taken the shrimp out of the oven, and laid the potholders on the stove. I was busy gathering utensils, and condiments for the table, when Mariah’s eyes grew large! She stammered, caught between shouting “Smoke”, and “Fire”! I wasn’t exactly sure what she was saying, but I saw the look on her face, and where she was looking. She pointed and began to rise to her feet. My back was to the stove when my brain finally untwisted her words. “Fire!” I spun around, and in a swift response to smoke rising before me, I grabbed the potholders! In one nimble move I dropped them in the sink, and turned the water on. Though there were wisps of smoke still rising from the stovetop, and the foul smell of smoke hung in the air, a crisis was averted, but it wasn’t over. Oh no, no!
With the soggy potholders in hand, I turned to Kim, “This is why I tell you never to put anything flammable on the stove!” His feeble response, “I didn’t know it was on.” It wasn’t on, but it was still hot from where I had just finished cooking peas. The red light on the stove indicated as much. A nice safety feature that apparently was ignored, just like my words.
No one was cooking at the moment, therefore it never crossed Kim’s mind that the stove was still hot. Sometimes, assuming the worst of what could happen, taking the proper precautions to prevent a, “what if” is better than dealing with the, “Oh s**t” when it does happen, because we weren’t careful. Vigilance in all things help to keep us safe. That and listening to me when I tell you, “Don’t put flammable things on the stove”. Told you so!
