Father Knows Best...

So, the evening begins with me (I'll be playing the Father in this story) trying to do the right thing and help the missionaries out with some splits. I figured it was better than watching another couple of hours of college basketball with my singular birthday present--a sackful of candy. Meanwhile, Kari (she's playing the part of the Mother) decides since Father isn't monopolizing the TV she will let the kids watch a movie and pop some popcorn on the stove top. So, she starts heating some oil in a stainless steel bowl.

Now let's take step back from the story. Granted, I wasn't present for the ensuing events. But let's go back to a kinder, simpler time one month ago...

The setting is Family Home Evening at the Smith Home. Hannah reads a story out of the Friend about a little girl putting together a 72 hour kit with the family. Father smirks over at Mother because Father has been trying to get this done for years much to the chagrin of Mother. Seeing a foothold (as he's in charge of the "activity"), he announces the activity will be starting the 72 hour kits and practicing a fire drill.

Skip forward one week to another Family Home Evening. This time it's the dessert portion. All of a sudden, Father announces "Fire Drill". The older kids spring from their seat, find their little 72 hour back packs, and go out front to the mail box. Little Rachel--with terror in her eyes--exclaims, "I don't want my buh-ssert (it's duh-ssert, Rach, duh-ssert) to buurrrnnn!"

One week later, the kids have got it down--all of the troops get to the mailbox in under a minute (dog included)! And no crying from Rachel this time!

Now let's jump back about 25 years. Setting Long Beach California sometime around the 4th of July. After young Father's mom leaves us kids alone at home to be babysat by some quality Nickelodean programming (Turkey TV anyone?!), Young Father turns to witness a nice grease fire coming from the electric french fryer. Interestingly enough, the carnage unleased on the house by the smoke led to our families first trip to the Big D to spend some time with the grandparents while the house was cleaned!

Flash forward to today. Father's vision of flames is now mirrored in his young daughter Hannah's eyes as she spots the unattended stove top (Mother--big surprise--is chatting it up on the phone). According to Mother, huge flames (probably mere sparks) were spewing from the bowl of hot oil and apparently neccesitated the unleashing of a whole cannister of fire retardant powder (no... our countertop and stove tops are not white as the photo below might lead one to believe).Needless to say, the inspired drills of previous week pay off as the kids dash for the mailbox only to tell the entire neighborhood of Mother's folly.

No harm/no foul. Everyone is safe. Even the stove top appears realtively unscathed. We do however have a pleasant smell pervading the entire house. And that pleasant white powder is being tracked all over the house.

The only casualty was noted as Father was settling in later that night to watching the remaining minutes of basketball--his lone bag of birthday candy covered in fire extinguisher frosting! No justice...