Twas the night before Christmas... and smoke was so thick in the air that our eyes watered and our lungs demanded fresh air from outdoors...
All I could do was stand back, yank the battery from the blaring fire alarm, and say, "Hey, it wasn't me."
Hubby, fanning the air with his hands, trying to see well enough to cross into the kitchen, managed to give me a look of skepticism. (What? Is the fire alarm always my fault?)
"Honestly. No kidding. It wasn't me."
That's when Munchkin #1 raised her hand... "Yep, I did it," she announced grimly. Her bar cookies were boiling over and starting little fires in the bottom of the oven.
That's my girl. Taking her lumps. Admitting to a little (or a LOT) of fire alarm action. (I won't give her too hard of time... she still makes the best cookies of anyone in the house.)
Successful cooking did take place this evening, however. Middle Munchkin planned a spaghetti dinner with sauce-from-scratch, garlic bread, and salad with fresh blue cheese dressing.
Munchkin Boy said, "This is the best idea ever! We should do this every year."
It's always good to hear that whatever you're doing together is worth repeating.
2 comments:
Merry Christmas to all y'all!
We'll be baking cookies in just a bit ourselves. Hope we don't set off the alarm!
When I was living in the trailer, I honestly got into the habit of disconnecting the smoke alarm BEFORE I would even begin to cook, knowing that it would be necessary anyway! HA!!
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