Rick had to leave very early for work one morning this week. I had to nurse the twins so I turned on “Blues Clues” for my older girls. But then Summer immediately said, “I’m hungry.”
I sent Dylan and Summer downstairs on their own with very specific instructions. “Dylan, fill two snack bags with goldfish and come right back upstairs.”
But somehow they heard, “Light the kitchen on fire.”
Apparently, by the time they got downstairs, Summer wanted popcorn. And Dylan, being a very thoughtful older sister with a hands on approach to life, decided to make it for her.
In the toaster oven.
So 5 year-old Dylan put a package of microwave popcorn with plastic wrap and all into the toaster oven and turned it on.
I was upstairs, happily nursing and no longer watching “Blues Clues” but rather the E! True Hollywood Story of “That 70’s show” which is a lot more interesting than you might think. And that’s when I heard Dylan yell, “MOMMY!! COME DOWNSTAIRS. THERE IS FIRE!!”
I immediately ripped Harlowe and Chase off my breasts and tore downstairs where I found our toaster oven engulfed in flames. I unplugged the oven and then grabbed the fire extinguisher. Now even though Rick and I found out recently that unfolding a new stroller is not intuitive, fire extinguishers thankfully are. I had never used one before but within seconds the fire was out.
All this before 8:23 am.
I explained to Dylan and Summer that they are NEVER, EVER, EVER to use the toaster oven and Dylan asked, “What about when I’m an adult?”
“I’ll think about it,” I responded.
Right now I’m leaning no.
I think we might need to buy a new toaster oven.