Tales of a Pyromaniac

On Friday, Will came up to me when I was in the bathroom attempting to seam off the ugly 80s wallpaper and said, “Waffle, please.” I responded, “No,” as I was preoccupied with the idea of having a pastel blue, green, peach and pink free bathroom. I didn’t stop to think that it might be a good idea to give him a snack. About five minutes later I noticed a smoky haze. I went in the kitchen to find burnt waffles in the toaster oven. As I was still preoccupied with wallpaper boarder removal and thinking that well now he won’t want to eat them, I put them on the counter and went back in the bathroom.

I had entered a state of wallpaper removal that I like to call the anti-zen. I was steaming and scraping off the wallpaper when I noticed a repeating zapping sound. I thought, “Darn it, I’d better check on that.” And stepped down to the chair to notice an even larger smoky haze had spread. I ran into the kitchen to find that Will had put the already burned waffles back into the toaster oven and turned it all the way up. A little flame was curling out of the toaster oven and charring the wicker napkin holder filled with paper napkins that was on top of the oven. I paused, wondering how to put out the fire. The zapping noise reminded me that I should pull the plug. I did, but smoke was still pouring out of the oven; so, I put it outside in the snow lest it should explode. Our house was still smoky when the kids got home from school and later when we opened the toaster oven we found ashes perfectly shaped into miniature waffles.

But sometimes, I just don’t learn the first time! Because later that day when Will wanted popcorn. I put the popcorn in the microwave, pushed start and walked away. Jacob found Will holding a towel in front of the microwave futilely trying to stop the clouds of white smoke pouring out from the microwave.