FIRE!

Okay - so maybe it wasn't as drastic as the title might seem, yet Lowell and I had our first kitchen fire a couple days ago.

Here is the play-by-play. I asked Lowell to start cooking some rice for dinner. All went well for the first two minutes. Lowell and I retreated to the living room waiting for dinner to be ready. Suddenly - I heard a "poof" like something was igniting.

I wait a few seconds trying to figure out what the noise could have been. Curiosity got the better of me and I turned the corner to the kitchen only to find flames coming from the stove. All of the training I received regarding kitchen fires was quickly forgotten. I summoned Lowell into the kitchen (please note this was NOT a yell or a scream it was simply "uh...uh...Lowell. Lowell, please come here...") - to which he couldn't move fast enough to match the paralysis that had overcome me. The culprit - a burning hot pad - was quickly thrown into the kitchen sink. Luckily was caught it before the complex burnt down.

Turns out Lowell turned on the wrong burner. Instead of the one with the pot of rice, he started the burner that my hot pad had been left on, the heat was too much for the hot pad and it died a painful death.

The evening's casualty was my favorite hot pad. It was an orange pumpkin I had just pulled out for fall, it was also the first "fall" decoration I purchased after getting married.
Lowell has promised me a new one...now that is a good husband. :)