The Fire

Another story from my past.....

One evening my roommate made little tins of banana bread which had spilt a fair amount in the oven. She had to work very early and we didn’t use the oven very often, so she figured she would clean it up when she got off work the following day.

The next morning I sleepily stumbled into the kitchen thinking that tater tots sounded like a tasty breakfast and turned on the oven to preheat. I then left the room to go down the hall and get ready for work. After a little while (it really wasn’t a very long time at all) I smelled something that seemed not quite right. I walked into the kitchen to find it filled with smoke. Heart pounding, I rushed over the oven and yanked open the door to see orange flames leaping up getting larger and larger. I slammed the door shut and did the first thing that came to mind. I started to yell. Loudly. I wanted my roommates to come help me. Now, I’m not a screamer, even when the giant crow nearly came in the window I didn’t scream; so this really shows how terrified I was. Then I remembered that I was the only one home. Trying to calm down I ran to the fridge and began pulling everything out until I found the baking soda. I must have dumped the entire box on those flames but at least they went out. For a little while all I could do was sit there on the kitchen floor shaking and holding an empty box of baking soda. And that was the first (hopefully the last?) kitchen fire I have ever started. I then proceeded to put away all of the food I had pulled out of the still open refrigerator.