Ugh! Not the best way to kick off a new year. Two nights ago I made scalloped potatoes au gratin. Unfortunately, I used a baking dish that was a bit too small, and some of the lovely cream sauce bubbled over into the bottom of the oven. Now, normally I'm very careful about not spilling things in the oven (that's usually Jeremy's job), and then I completely forgot about it. Until today. I just whipped up the loveliest smelling garlic pizza dough, because the kids and I were going to use our wonderful new pizza stone to bake a pizza tonight. I popped the stone in the oven, turned it on, and a few minutes later noticed the oven was smoking. I asked Jeremy if I should worry or if the heat would just burn it off. He assured me the heat would just burn it off. Being cheeky, I said "so you promise it's not going to start a big fire?" He laughed, and said no, not at all. Fast forward 3 minutes, I look over at the oven and realize I have a toasty little fire going! I yelped and went for the baking soda, which is the exact moment Genna noticed it and started screaming FIRE! FIRE! FIRE! And all the kids ran outside. In the snow. In their bare feet. To sum it all up- The fire is out. My house smells like smoke. Dinner is being delivered from the pizza place around the corner. And my husband is a big fat liar.
And this is all typed in white and highlighted in charcoal so you can get the feel of what my smoke infested house feels like. Isn't it nice how I bring you right in to my world?