So. You know how there’s a thing in karma and life where REALLY AND TRULY the most ridiculous things only happen when 1. you’re sober or 2. tons of other people are watching?
I’ve noticed a pattern in my life and have determined that this is the truth.
Example: I only spill beer (or anything) after I’ve had 1. After 6? I’m allllllll careful. The first drink, though, sometimes BEFORE THE FIRST SIP, is when I’m really confident in my sober motor skills and end up dumping gallons of expensive drink all over myself, cell phones, carpet, you name it.
We had a similar situation last week when we hosted a party for FIFTY PEOPLE IN OUR HOUSE. The party itself was absolutely wonderful; we did it for an out-of-town friend who came in for a surprise for his dad, and it was crowded but lovely and I think everyone had a nice time.
But. Right before the surprise, while we were still heating things up, we set the kitchen on fire.
For the first time in my life, and the first time since Jay and I have been together. With 40 people (we were still waiting on the guest of honor and his crew) there to observe the friends that “cook and do this kind of thing all the time.” Because, I mean, of course.
It was no one’s fault, and it was Jay’s fault. We made meatballs, as we do, and some of them went into a container that was a bit small for the quantity we were working with. I told him to “fill it up and we’ll refill it later” and he took that to mean “overflowing to the brim.” So, of course, balls go in oven to reheat, sauce boils and bubbles over to oven floor, smoke, then fire. It was kind of….I pretended I didn’t notice for awhile. Sometimes things just fall to the oven floor and smoke and then burn off and it’s fine, you know? I knew the sauce had dripped, and when Jay opened the oven to check smoke just BILLOWED everywhere. In our tiny house. Filled with 40 people. So he SHUT the oven door but then flames started. Of course at this point the smoke had drawn a crowd, and I got the “um, Linds? smoke in the kitchen…” call from another guest. Because SEE I TOLD YOU it was Jay’s fault.
So. Flames. Jay dumped a dish of salt over them, the fire went out, the balls were fine. But then we had to simply wait for the rest of the food to burn off and the smoke to subside, which meant fans ON and doors OPEN while we were simultaneously trying to cool the house with AC as best we could because it was unseasonably warm outside. So we had smoke, fire, then had to stop using the AC. And every few minutes someone who hadn’t been near the kitchen would be all “did it just get kind of….foggy in here?”
LUCKILY this all happened before the party really got going, the food was great, and everyone had a nice time or lied really well about it.
But still all I could think was “are you FUCKING kidding me? this really never happens!”
It really doesn’t.