If you’re friends with my mom, Crumbs and Crayons, on Facebook, you’ve probably already seen some of the pictures from when my family came to our house for dinner Saturday night. I made homemade fried chicken, homemade mashed potatoes and corn on the cob. It was SO delicious. But that’s really not the point.

The second before my family walked in the door, I was laying a piece of chicken in the oil with tongs when it slipped from the tongs and splashed 350 degree oil on the floor, my pants, and my feet. I was okay and Jason graciously came and mopped up the floor. A little later when mom was helping me, the lid got stuck on the chicken, because, you know, it wasn’t the right size and all, and the chicken-AGAIN- fell into the oil splashing it on the floor, my pants, and my feet. Jason, again, mopped.

Several full cups of oil out of the pot later, we got the issue under control. Save for it spitting and popping bits of oil all over the floor, counters, and stove.

HOWEVER, we had a delicious meal and a wonderful time full of love, Tyler Perry, kitty play time, and music.

When cleaning up later I noticed there was a significant amount of oil underneath the burner behind the one where I was cooking. Granted there was a significant amount of oil EVERYWHERE, but nothing a little cleaner wouldn’t fix.

This morning I got up, made bacon and eggs and there was no problem. The back burner still looked a little shiny but everything was fine. Tonight I decided to make these shrimp and goat cheese quesadillas via Eat, Live, Run. The recipe calls you to heat your pan to high on the stove to cook the shrimp. Obediently, I did so. My back was turned as I was peeling the tails off the shrimp in the sink.

Suddenly, I heard a deep whoomp. I turned to see what it was and THE STOVE WAS ON FIRE! All I could say was, “OH MY GOSH!” And Jason said, “What? Is something on fire?” (Clairvoyant, much?) He runs into the kitchen immediately morphing into action. Meanwhile, I’m frantically looking for something to put it out with. There was an orange hot pad? No, Melody. That will catch on fire, too! Idiot. Oh! I know! In high school home-ec we learned to put a cookie sheet over a pan to choke out the fire! I barely got the cabinet open when I heard a loud SSSSSSSS! Jason had filled a coffee mug, calmly, and threw it on the fire. Okay, I’m an idiot. OF COURSE that should have been the first thing I thought of! Ugh. But that’s why I married him… for him to be smart for me..?

I stood at the other end of the kitchen with my face in my shirt. Black ashes were flying everywhere. Great. I thought. The cheese was opened. Sure enough, there were black ashes all over our white cabinets. AND the cheese. (Shh! I still used it. :P) We-and by we I mean Jason- set about cleaning the WHOLE stove. He lifted up those silver bowls holding the burners and sure enough, oil was everywhere. Thanks, delicious chicken. Amazing as he is, he cleaned the whole stove while I scrubbed the silver bowls with an SOS pad under an open window. Poor baby Toonces came into the kitchen like nothing happened and sat on the rug just watching us.

Stove-1
Us-1 (Because we put it out. Duh.)