Burnt to a Crisp

My mom made spaghetti last night, which reminded me of a story. Last summer, I was walking around a grocery store with my mom and little sister, Nicole. We were trying to decide what to make for dinner. Spaghetti sounded good, and it is quick and easy! When we got home, mom pulled some ground beef out, which we brown and mix with the spaghetti sauce. Its like meatballs inside the sauce. She plopped the beef in a pan over the stove and put a lid on the pan, listening to Nicole talking about some sale Kohl's was having. As mom washed her hands, I turned the stove on and pulled a spatula out. Nicole brilliantly suggests that we go shopping before dinner- Dad was taking a nap in the bedroom, Christina was with friends and Ryan was still at football practice with Kevin. It would be a quick trip. I ran to get my shoes and purse, then headed out to the car. We backed out of the driveway, while our ground beef sat on the hot stove.

While enjoying our time at Kohl's, Mom gets a call from Dad and I could tell something was wrong. She flipped her phone shut and told us to go get in the car. You see, what had happened was, Dad awoke from his beauty sleep because a ghastly smell had seeped underneath the bedroom door. The fire alarms started going off and Dad burst out of the bedroom into the livingroom and kitchen. Smoke swirled and fumed around the vaulted ceilings. Dad quickly opened all the doors and windows before making his way to the black, crisp source on the stove. Grabbing the oven mitts with smiling, dancing snowmen, he promptly escorts the pan out on the deck. By the time Mom, Nicole and I arrived, most of the smoke had drifted out of the house, but left an awful stench. For weeks after, we tried to get rid of the smell by cleaning the carpets, scrubbing the walls and the leather couches. The whole first floor smelled. I can't find the right words to describe the smell. You can use your imagination though. I also can't describe in words my guilt. I felt terrible every time I walked into their house. While the smell was still lingering, this incident was not funny. It didn't turn into a joke at my expense until months later. This story is still my dad's favorite tease whenever I announce that I will be cooking dinner.