So I was just catching up on Charlie Glickman’s blog, and in particular reading about the new lube study conducted at Indiana University, when I smelled smoke coming from the kitchen. You see, I’ve a habit of putting on food, coffee, bathwater, what-have-you and then returning to my work and forgetting about the former altogether. This will get worse with age, I can only imagine. In this case, I’d assembled a turkey, Dijon, Brie, tomato sandwich, which, though tantalizing, slipped my mind as soon as I slid it in the toaster oven and returned to reading statistics about lube. Anyway, it would seem that a year’s worth of toast debris in the bottom of the oven had mingled with some dripping cheese and, poof, created flaming Brie crumbs. Mental note: time to clean nasty-ass toaster.
So what did I do when I saw my lunch inferno? Well, first I did what any sensible, braless woman in her sweatpants reading about personal lubricants on a Tuesday at noon would do, and tried to salvage my lunch. Shockingly, I was mostly successful. Then I stared at the flames, realizing–wow this fucker is really on fire. I had the sense to close the oven door as my brain said: snuff out oxygen. Could it, like, blow up? I wondered. I unplugged it. Then as it continued to burn brightly behind the glass, I called my husband.
Now what could my husband, mid-production meeting, do about our mini house fire you ask? Not a damn thing.
I think they call this kind of behavior co-dependence.
He told me to cover it with a tea towel.
As my kitchen filled with smoke and the fire eventually burned out, I was reminded of my fender bender recently. I’d also, blush, immediately called my husband.
While there are many things that hubby knows more about than I do, including but not limited to: fire, electricity, cars, math, and spatial relationships, I guess what I’m generally after is moral support. And oh is my ever-patient man good at that. But I suppose in the name of self-sufficiency and marital preservation, I should probably limit my knee-jerk speed dials.
Okay, back to “research” AKA procrastination of writing actual articles or working on book. Oh yeah, and a shout out to lubes, which are proven to make sex more pleasurable and increase satisfaction. Woot woot!