Jul 11 2004
Domestically Disabled
Proof, if any were needed, of how very domestically disabled I am – one of my birthday tributes was this mug, so it appears to be a matter of common knowledge – is at hand. In attempting to toast a crumpet (well, I am half-English) in the toaster oven, I managed to set the crumpet and the toaster oven on fire.
It was a mini-inferno before I even noticed, and once I did, I had no idea what to do. Throw water on it? Maybe that makes it worse, though. Do I even have baking soda – doesn’t that work? Why don’t I have a fire extinguisher? Is there a responsible adult in the house who could fix this for me? Now? All these thoughts scurried rapidly through my petite mind – they didn’t have far to travel – and finally what I did was grab an oven mitt, then the hunka hunka burning appliance, and toss everything outside. The rain put it out for me.
Toaster oven is a write-off, and the outlet into which it was plugged looks a little Dali and is no longer white. As if all this weren’t embarrassing enough, my brother is a volunteer fireman. Don’t tell on me, ‘K?