Thirteen years ago, almost to the day, I caught on fire. The following blog entry fills in the details.
December 1995 was not a banner month for me. I had already gone skiing (for the first time ever) that month in New Mexico, and things had not gone well. After an unfortunate mishap with a lift on the bunny slope, I was in an air cast and on crutches.
Despite my injuries, I rallied to attend the annual M family extravaganza in you know where, TX. My task: peel and cube potatoes for mashed potatoes. I hobbled around the kitchen collecting my acoutrement (read: crap I needed) to begin the potato peeling fiasco. I asked for a knife, and my mom said "Just grab one out of the knife block by the stove". I reached for the knife...
I'm going to stop here for a little back story. My mom had ALWAYS had an electric stove. This was her first year in a new house with a gas stove, and there was definitely a learning curve involved.
Also, just to give you a visual, I was wearing baggy pants and a VERY baggy sweater. The sweater was a gift to Winifred (I'm not afraid to use your real name, punk!) that he never received since he DUMPED me three days before Christmas. But I digress...
So, I reached across the gas stove for the knife, and heard a small "poof" sound. At about the same instant, I realized that I was on fire. Flames spanned from my wrist to my shoulder, and were burning about six inches out from my sleeve. I was frozen in awe and horror. I flapped my arm, and the massively huge sweater folded over on itself and snuffed out the flames. In the midst of this, my mother dredged up her "Stop, Drop and Roll" training from her elementary school years, and started screaming "Get down! Get down!" as she attempted to wrestle me (and my crutches) to the floor. I fought furiously, yelling back "I'm out! I'm out!" as I desperately tried to remain upright.
My efforts were fruitless. A mother's will is stronger than any child's, even an adult child, and I was going to get down whether I liked it or not. I was successfully knocked to the floor, crutches flying as my already injured ankle was twisted again. I was laughing and crying at the same time.
To answer the obvious question: how the heck did you catch on fire...I offer this explanation. My mom thought she needed to turn the burner on to "warm it up". I'm still unclear as to how you "warm up" an open flame, but there must be logic in that somewhere, right? Since she had the burner on low, I was unable to see the blue flame in the dim light of the kitchen, and did not notice as my sleeve brushed against it.
Also, my sweater was not damaged in the above incident. I thought this was a Christmas miracle, until my friend C pointed out that since I used liquid fabric softener to wash the sweater, the residue from that is probably what caught on fire so easily. Lessons learned!
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Things you never thought you'd say
Today, my post is dedicated to all the moms out there. Here are the top ten things that I never thought I would say:
1. "Is there blood? If not, then you're fine!"
2. "Can you close the bathroom door so your brother doesn't end up in the toilet again?"
3. "Just spit it in my hand if you don't like the way it tastes."
4. "How many times do I have to tell you to stop picking your nose in public?"
5. "The dog licked that! Please don't keep eating it!"
6. "You cannot tell your brother to 'Bite my butt!'. I don't care WHAT movie you heard it in!"
7. "Can you at least say 'excuse me' when you toot?"
8. "You actually need to use soap when you wash you hair."
9. "When was the last time you cleaned your ears?"
10. "PLEASE don't touch your butt when there's poop on it!"
1. "Is there blood? If not, then you're fine!"
2. "Can you close the bathroom door so your brother doesn't end up in the toilet again?"
3. "Just spit it in my hand if you don't like the way it tastes."
4. "How many times do I have to tell you to stop picking your nose in public?"
5. "The dog licked that! Please don't keep eating it!"
6. "You cannot tell your brother to 'Bite my butt!'. I don't care WHAT movie you heard it in!"
7. "Can you at least say 'excuse me' when you toot?"
8. "You actually need to use soap when you wash you hair."
9. "When was the last time you cleaned your ears?"
10. "PLEASE don't touch your butt when there's poop on it!"
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Ah...memories
Picture it...Anywhere, TX...September of 1990 something.
M had been unceremoniously booted from our high school band due to an unfortunate smoke bomb incident in the stands during a football game. D had also lost band privileges during the aforementioned incident. Consequently, D & M were going to the game via M's rocking cool Nissan Pulsar, with yours truly riding shotgun.
M,D, and I enjoyed a perfectly fun game, hanging with all of our high school peeps and discussing inane things as only teenagers can do. After the game, M sweetly gave me a piggyback ride to the car. I laughed so hard I almost peed down his back! We made it to the car, and set off for home.
As we were driving along the highway, we caught up with the big yellow dog (read: bus) that was carrying the high school band. D thought it would be an excellent idea to poke half of his body out of the sunroof and yell at his buddies on the bus. The police officer behind us did not think this was such an excellent idea!
Lights flashed. M uttered the immortal words "Oh ####, a cop". He pulled over, and the officer came to his window and proceeded to question us (using very foul language) as to what in the name of all that is holy we were thinking. Then he came around to my side of the car, opened the door, and said "Get out". 'Holy ####, I'm going to jail' I thought as I got out of the car. He walked me to the cop car, opened the back door, and said "Get in!". I got in, and started hyperventilating.
He came around the car, got in, and threw his flashlight through the bars of the police car. The bars stopped it from going all the way through, but he achieved his purpose-I peed a little on his fancy vinyl back seat. He said "What the #### were you thinking?" I said "Officer, I have no idea what you are talking about!" He said "You know #### well what I'm talking about! You were hanging out of the sunroof!" "Um, that wasn't me." I whispered. "Then WHO was it?" he yelled back. And just like that, I rolled over on my buddy D. "The guy in the back seat, Officer." "Hold on!" he snarled as he hopped out of the car.
He approached M's car, and ordered him out as I watched, eyes WIDE with horror. He instructed D to get out of the back seat, then proceeded to grab him and throw him against the car, frisking him in ways D could only wish a woman would have touched him. Then he grabbed him by the arm, dragged him to the police car, and threw him in. He then rounded the car, and let me out, ordering me to go sit with M. I ran like a scared rabbit, afraid for D's life, but happy to have escaped the mad man's evil clutches.
He screamed at D for a good fifteen minutes, ran our licenses and determined we were not criminals,ordered D & M not to be caught dead in the same car again, and sent us on our way.
I still pee a little when I see a police car.
M had been unceremoniously booted from our high school band due to an unfortunate smoke bomb incident in the stands during a football game. D had also lost band privileges during the aforementioned incident. Consequently, D & M were going to the game via M's rocking cool Nissan Pulsar, with yours truly riding shotgun.
M,D, and I enjoyed a perfectly fun game, hanging with all of our high school peeps and discussing inane things as only teenagers can do. After the game, M sweetly gave me a piggyback ride to the car. I laughed so hard I almost peed down his back! We made it to the car, and set off for home.
As we were driving along the highway, we caught up with the big yellow dog (read: bus) that was carrying the high school band. D thought it would be an excellent idea to poke half of his body out of the sunroof and yell at his buddies on the bus. The police officer behind us did not think this was such an excellent idea!
Lights flashed. M uttered the immortal words "Oh ####, a cop". He pulled over, and the officer came to his window and proceeded to question us (using very foul language) as to what in the name of all that is holy we were thinking. Then he came around to my side of the car, opened the door, and said "Get out". 'Holy ####, I'm going to jail' I thought as I got out of the car. He walked me to the cop car, opened the back door, and said "Get in!". I got in, and started hyperventilating.
He came around the car, got in, and threw his flashlight through the bars of the police car. The bars stopped it from going all the way through, but he achieved his purpose-I peed a little on his fancy vinyl back seat. He said "What the #### were you thinking?" I said "Officer, I have no idea what you are talking about!" He said "You know #### well what I'm talking about! You were hanging out of the sunroof!" "Um, that wasn't me." I whispered. "Then WHO was it?" he yelled back. And just like that, I rolled over on my buddy D. "The guy in the back seat, Officer." "Hold on!" he snarled as he hopped out of the car.
He approached M's car, and ordered him out as I watched, eyes WIDE with horror. He instructed D to get out of the back seat, then proceeded to grab him and throw him against the car, frisking him in ways D could only wish a woman would have touched him. Then he grabbed him by the arm, dragged him to the police car, and threw him in. He then rounded the car, and let me out, ordering me to go sit with M. I ran like a scared rabbit, afraid for D's life, but happy to have escaped the mad man's evil clutches.
He screamed at D for a good fifteen minutes, ran our licenses and determined we were not criminals,ordered D & M not to be caught dead in the same car again, and sent us on our way.
I still pee a little when I see a police car.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
OK....seriously?
Sit back, fasten your seatbelts, and prepare for a classic rant.
my subject: Four way stops
my issue: Stupid people
For the LOVE of ALL that is holy, folks, LEARN how a four way stop works. If two people arrive at the intersections at the same time....YIELD TO THE RIGHT! Do not stomp the gas to see if you can beat the other person, and then glare and honk furiously at them if they beat you off the mark. If they were to your right, THEY had the right of way!
**A special note to all of the directionally challenged: Use your thumb and forefinger to make an "L". The one that actually looks like an "L" (as opposed to a backwards "L") is your left.**
And while we're on the subject of stop signs, the general idea of one is that you actually STOP. Blowing through a stop sign because the intersection is clear is not a bright idea, and in a perfect world, will also get you a ticket! Is your destination really so important that you need to run a stop sign? I think not.
That is all.
my subject: Four way stops
my issue: Stupid people
For the LOVE of ALL that is holy, folks, LEARN how a four way stop works. If two people arrive at the intersections at the same time....YIELD TO THE RIGHT! Do not stomp the gas to see if you can beat the other person, and then glare and honk furiously at them if they beat you off the mark. If they were to your right, THEY had the right of way!
**A special note to all of the directionally challenged: Use your thumb and forefinger to make an "L". The one that actually looks like an "L" (as opposed to a backwards "L") is your left.**
And while we're on the subject of stop signs, the general idea of one is that you actually STOP. Blowing through a stop sign because the intersection is clear is not a bright idea, and in a perfect world, will also get you a ticket! Is your destination really so important that you need to run a stop sign? I think not.
That is all.
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