Black Breakfast

*Please note: With an awareness of my family’s safety and privacy, I do not refer to our children by name on this public blog or its Facebook page. They are being referred as Spock, Stitch, and Jack-Jack (listed by birth order from oldest to youngest). Though I may post pictures, I intentionally keep their faces hidden.  Family and friends, please help me keep their privacy by refraining from using their real names in comments. Thank you for understanding!

It’s been a long week.  It always seems that way when one of the kids is sick.  Stitch was the lucky one this time around (and I’m praying we don’t all share whatever virus hit him).  We made it to Friday, though, (with the help of a neighbor supplying me with coffee not once, but TWICE)!

I woke up this morning with a happy song on my lips and the determination that it would be a great day.  Stitch was fever free and, though still not completely 100 percent, much better.

Every once in awhile I like to bake muffins and freeze them for a quick breakfast option for the kids.  I pulled out the bag, popped a few in the microwave, and straightened things up while the kids ate.   The kids get to watch a show in the morning so, while they did that, a good out-of-state friend and I took a few minutes to catch up on the phone. Getting on the phone is just asking for trouble.  While we were chatting, I went into the master bath in an attempt to make my hair somewhat… presentable (they called me “Fro-ma” in college for a reason).  Being on the phone while hiding… uh… getting ready for the day, is like begging for something to happen.

Seriously, I should have known better.

I started to hear something but couldn’t quite identify the source.  Ah, the tv is on.  No big deal.

Then I smelt something…just a whiff.  Probably nothing.  But then I smelt it again.  Something… burnt. BIG deal!

I walked out into the bedroom and realized that what I had been hearing was the microwave.  My pace quickened and, as I entered the dining and kitchen area, I could see rolls of smoke pouring from the top and bottom of the microwave door.  I flung the door open and was greeted with a cloud of smoke that was so immense that it could have been created by an atomic bomb.  For real.

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Sitting on the plastic (now toxic) plate was a charcoal black muffin.  I honestly can’t say what was producing the most smoke, but our ENTIRE house looked as if London fog had taken residence.  (Or, maybe I should say “smog.”)

I ran around opening windows while the boys stood underneath smoke detectors waving towels frantically.

It wasn’t until I was done that I realized the perpetrator of the whole incident had readied himself for action.  I told him that he really ought to let me know if he wants a third muffin!

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Although I try not to use the microwave much, I am happy to report that it survived today’s episode of “Let’s Burn Something in the Microwave” (unlike last time).

Our house may smell like burnt plastic (here’s hoping that the vinegar rags I have hanging everywhere help), but you know what?  The house didn’t burn down, we were able to go outside for a short walk, and my loving husband surprised me with flowers.  Looks like it was a great day after all!

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One Response

  1. Lyndsey 06/06/2015

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