I Heart Baking Soda

Well, I screamed yesterday.  But I don't think it counts.  Read on and see why:

Remember my post yesterday?  About my "ordinary" day?  Ha!

So there I was, in the kitchen... 

Maisy watching Doc McStuffins on the couch while I made supper...

Tucker in his high chair, rejecting dry cereal and squawking for more attention... 

Snickerdoodles on cooling racks, occasionally being checked for quality...

Cookie dough on baking sheets, ready to go in the oven...

Counter tops covered with cooling racks, baking sheets, flour and bowls and measuring cups...

Dinner in the oven...

Peas in the steamer on the back burner...

Clock ticking away the time until Rick and I are due to leave this crazy kitchen to hang out with adult friends for the night...

Rick walks in the door.

I hear a POOF behind me!

Shooting flames from the front burner!

I scream!

"AGGHHHH!!!!!!  FIRE!!!!!! FIRE!!!!!! FIRE!!!!!!!"

HUGE flames!!!!

I dart for the fire extinguisher.  I think, "I don't know how to use this thing."  Rick says, "Where's the baking soda??"  I think, "Did I put it away after I made the cookies?" 

I check.  I did. I grab. I dump.

Flames going out.  Smoke detectors screeching.  Tucker screeching.  Maisy calming looking on from the couch, fingers in her ears.  Smoke billowing.  Heart pounding.  

I heart baking soda.

The moral of the story is this: Know where your baking soda is.  OR just don't set a plastic microwave splatter cover onto the front burner, then start the back burner, except you actually start the front burner by mistake.

And that was my "ordinary" day.     

(It's Day 6, Friends.  Don't set your kitchens on fire.)