My oven caught on fire Thanksgiving eve at oh, 2:15 am. Every freaking alarm went off in the house. It was my fault. Kindof. I turned my self-cleaning oven on before I went to bed knowing I would need it Thursday. No one told me the damn oven was wired for flambe. I woke to a shrill alarm and smoke all the way upstairs. It was so thick I could barely see, the fumes so noxious my eyes stung and I was coughing. My two little dogs and cat were having trouble breathing. Now mind you hubby is gimping along on his knee he’d just had surgery on, and the two kids who were home only popped their heads out of their rooms to ascertain whether or not they were actually going to die. After I ran down stairs and turned off the oven flambe, I ran back upstairs, closed my bedroom door, and opened all of the windows keeping my pets inside my room. Then hubby and I went about opening every window and door in the house to get the smoke out. We were both coughing and those damned alarms would not go off, even after we pushed in the buttons. So, gimp went into the garage and got the big ladder. We argued over who would carry it upstairs and climb it, Mister Macho won. Nevermind he shouldn’t be carrying a heavy ladder with his knee all stitched up or climbing up and down the damn thing. So, I did what any good wife would do, I spotted him. I hesitated to ask my oldest son as he was in a cast for a broken leg, and being much taller than his father, I could just see him toppling over as his cast got caught in a rung. So, super hubby dismantled the alarms, and stayed up ’til 4:30 waiting for the to smoke dissipate so he could lock up the house and go to bed. My two dogs were having trouble breathing so I sat next to the window with them while they breathed in fresh air. I froze my ass off in the process.
When I woke the next am, the house stunk like burnt self-cleaning oven and smoke. We aired the house again, I cleaned the oven by hand, vacuumed the carpets with baking soda sprayed the Fabreez, and simmered cloves in water. By the time the turkey was ready to go on the table you never would have known the night before could have been our last. Had not the smoke detectors gone off, we would have continued to sleep in the toxic smoke and most likely not have woken up. So, make sure your smoke alarms have fresh batteries, and scrape the gooey black crap off the bottom of your self-cleaning oven before it ignites into a towering inferno and burns you and your family up.
Now, ma’ dears, I am off to write.