Hey Little Boy, Want to See a Fire Truck?

As you may know, I really do go all out for my kids.

Today, I managed to conjure up an oil fire in the oven to give my wee ones an opportunity to see real live fire fighters and police officers, in their very own home! Then the kids got to go outside and play in the fire truck while the fire fighters used their giant fan to blow all the acrid black smoke (but not its smell) out of the house. Mali slept through the whole thing, on my shoulder.

I felt like a complete fucking moron, but the very kind fire fighters assured me that seeing big flames + minding three small kids solo = call 911.

The oven just needs to be cleaned really well (volunteers?), and, since olive oil was the source of the blaze, the pizza that had survived the fire inside the stove had a lovely wood-fired oven taste to it. So said Seymour, who had been at a work function and so arrived home post-brouhaha.

That'll teach me to make dinner.

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