Ok, I did not actually burn my house down, but I had a good go at it.
Make some tea. Put a big pot of water on the stove to boil, set the burner on “high”, and then find something else to do for a few minutes while it heats up.
Then, since I’m apparently not playing with a full deck, leave the kitchen to do something else and forget all about the stove within the first 20 seconds. Go outside to change the oil in the cars and tighten up that pesky lose parking brake cable.
Shut off burner. Extinguish glowing remains of pot. Take battery out of smoke detector to shut it the hell up. Open windows to clear smoke. Reassure the cat.
At what age does Alzheimer’s usually set in, anyway?
I think this incident handily demonstrates the need for a mandatory seven-day waiting period and a thorough background check prior to the purchase of major kitchen utensils.
Dr. Watson
“Earth: The lunatic asylum of the solar system.” – paraphrasing Samuel Parkes Cadman
Put tea bags in boiling water. But I think it isn’t actually necessary to complete the tea in order to successfully burn the house down. You just have to start making it, so you can fake knowledge of the trickier parts involving the actual tea bags.
Just so you know you’re not alone, I’ll give you my version of How to almost burn your house down in 2 easy steps…
Put a flour tortilla in the oven to warm it up a bit.
Get on the internet and forget all about the warming tortilla.
I had not only the thick, black, noxious smoke, but huge flames shooting through the oven door and up the cabinets. Thank goodness nothing but the tortilla caught fire. Cleaning the residue from the soot was a disgusting job. ICK! I now know why people die in fires from smoke inhalation. My lungs were burning within 5 seconds of that crap getting in them.
I also removed the battery from my smoke alarm. Note to self: check to see if I ever put it back.
My mother set the kitchen on fire so many times we bought her a kitchen fire extingisher for her birthday one year!
“How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world.” - Anne Frank
Light two scented candles to burn away unpleasant cleaning chemicals following housecleaning.
Completely forget about the candles and accompany boyfriend to his recording session, leaving them to burn for FIVE FREAKIN’ HOURS unchecked in an empty apartment, save one cat and 11 fish.
Was there smoke or flames? Well, no, excepting the candle flame itself. But it was so incredibly dumb…ah, man that was the most stressful drive home (it was only when we got in the car to come home that I remembered). I was just hoping that the most likely ending was true–they burned themself out. Remarkably, they were still burning and still have plenty of candlewax left.
My husband is known around here as the Great-Destroyer-and-Murderer-Of-Teapots. In our married life I believe he has done in three, including one beautiful copper and porcelain model I inherited from my mother. Melted the stuffin’ right out of 'em.
It’s becoming a new tradition in our house to try to burn it down on Christmas Day. In 1998, the method used was to place holiday candles on the dinner table, which was covered by a pretty paper (hey, I got KIDS!) tablecloth. I’m not sure but I think somebody knocked over a candle, setting the paper on fire. Quick action by our very own Andrea/Witewytch saved the day.
In 1999, the method was the more common distracted-by-toy-airplanes-in-trees-leads-to-kitchen-grease-fire approach. Hubby had a skillet on the stove with oil heating in it; I was outside extricating an AirHog (don’t ask) from a tree into which Youngest Son had flown it. The toy was dislodged and handed to Youngest Son, who promptly flew it into another tree, higher this time, and one belonging to a neighbor. Gamely I went for the ladder, and hubby came out to see what the racket was all about. He grabbed a fruit-picking pole and came over, climbed the ladder, and managed to obtain the toy.
All of a sudden loud noises start coming from the house, and Eldest Son is at the door shouting. Thank goodness for Eldest Son – he was at the 'puter (which is in the room next to and open to the kitchen) when the smoke alarm starting going off. The oil was smoking mightily, but had not yet caught fire. Eldest Son was able to shut off the flame underneath the grease and cover it with a lid (damn good for a 14 year old, wouldn’t you say?).
We’re thinking of going away for the holiday next year . . . .
As a 16 y/o kid, go over to big brothers apt because he lives on his own.
Watch as brother and his friend pour grain alcohol (about half an inch) in coke bottle, and drop in a lit match to see if they can make a fire in the bottom of the coke bottle.
Ohh and ahh while flame burns, but only hovers in the neck of said coke bottle.
After this gets boring, watch brother’s friend attempt to pour more grain alcohol into coke bottle in hopes that flame will follow the pouring liquid DOWN into the coke bottle, thus moving the fire down to the bottom of the coke bottle (see number 1)
watch in horror as flame moves UP into bottle of grain alcohol and scares brothers friend into throwing buring Everclear bottle across the room against the wall and the curtains, catching everything in it’s path on fire.
Ahh yes, nothing like the 70’s.
Enright3
“You tryin’ to tell me Jesus Christ can’t hit a curve ball?” - Eddie Harris(Major League)
A few years ago, my brother was all at the same time: Talking on the phone, watching wrestling and making popcorn the old way, using oil and such. It was pretty funny watching the cabinets go up in flames. I guess the new ones look better anyways.
“The idea of a walk-in closet sounds frightening. If I’m ever sittin’ at home and a closet walks in, I’m gettin’ outta there.” ~George Carlin
End result, total destruction of entire house, except for comedic cliche singular bathtub, and singular chimney stack. (But we all got out alive, at least)
