I slept fairly well last night. Wes was only up once and Theo was a minimal amount of fussy once he finally fell asleep. That meant I woke up feeling ambitious about breakfast. We had bacon, eggs, fruit, and biscuit ingredients in the house so I thought I’d make a nice breakfast. Abigail obviously was up with the kids last night so I let her sleep in while I got up with the kids.
The kids started with a small snack while I started cooking. After several minutes Wes was excused from the table and started playing video games in the living room while Theo kept snacking and making baby chat with me while I prepped breakfast. I got the biscuits and the bacon in the oven at the same time. That’s when I started the eggs on top of the stove at low and smelled a very unkitchen-friendly smell coming from the highchair.
Theo was leaning over to the side in his chair with the “I’m making poop come out of me so leave me alone” face. A minute later… Yep. The diaper had somehow shifted and most of it missed the diaper. It hit his PJs and leaked out into the highchair AND onto the floor.
That’s when I forgot about everything on the stove and took the kiddo to the bathroom for clean up. Everything got cleaned up. In the meantime, the biscuits were perfect and the eggs just about ready. The bacon, however, was burnt. I took it out and spilled some grease. While Theo was digging into a biscuit I got some paper towels to clean off the grease from the stove top.
Wes let out a loud scream in the living room and my attention shifted thinking he was hurt or there was some other emergency. I shouted, “Are you okay?” He responded that he was and it was “Just a Super Mario thing that surprised him.”
That’s when I felt the heat on my hand. I had turned when checking on Mr. Dude and caught the paper towels on fire. The fire moved too quickly for me to get the paper towels over to the sink so I dropped it. The flaming paper towels attached themselves to my boxers and caught them on fire.
Yup, I like cooking without pants on. Might reconsider that after recent events though.
I took my boxers off so fast it was impressive. The flaming heap hit the carpet my mother-in-law likes having in front of the sink. I was able to stomp it out with my feet, but it left a few burn marks. She’s in Florida visiting family and hasn’t seen the rug yet.
So the good news is everyone except a pair of pjs, a tray full of bacon, my boxers and a rug survived without injury. I’ll call that an overall win. Cheers to the weekend and flaming boxers!
Do you have any embarrassing kitchen stories? I’d love to hear them!
