Burnin' down the house

It was late on a Friday night. I was "putting the house to bed." You know the drill, starting the dishwasher, making the dogs go out one last time, locking all the doors, hanging up the cordless phone, etc. David was in the Philippines or Singapore or Guam, I am really not sure where. I am sure that he was not here : (

The kids were still up with me since it was not a school night. By this point, they were following me foot to foot as I completed the end of the day checklist. I was in the kitchen and all of the sudden, I smelled something burning. I immediately checked the stove. I have accidentally turned on an eye on low by bumping it before. Nope. That is a little harder to do in this new kitchen since the stove is gas. But I definitely smelled something. I checked the microwave, the oven, and I could not figure it out.

By this point it was getting stronger. So I started trying to follow it, with my nose sniffing in the air like a bloodhound. I turned the corner into the den and looked around. Then I spotted it.

The one lamp that I had not turned out yet was smoking.

I ran over to it and looked under the shade to see one of my favorite kitchen towels with small flames peeking out from under it.

(sorry no picture of the actual incident - just trying to prevent damage)

I pulled the string to turn it off and grabbed the towel. I did not want to put it down and ruin any carpet or furniture, so I headed to the kitchen. I did not run, you know the whole fanning the flames thing. I dropped it into the sink and turned on the water. Whew! Tragedy averted.

Now. Time to identify the culprit. You know, it was my favorite towel, but it did not grow legs and climb the pole lamp to commit fiery suicide. It was easy to figure out who was responsible because Spencer CANNOT STAND to do anything wrong. Most of the time, he does not do anything wrong on purpose. He really is a sweet boy. And let's face it, I have never explicitly told him not to put a kitchen towel on a lamp. Both of them were following me and running around behind me. So after the towel was properly extinguished, I turned around to look at them. Jessa had a look of shock on her face, but Spencer's face was all "crimped up" and tears were already starting to come out of his little eyes. I scooped him up and told him that I was not angry, but that it scared me. And I continued to explain to him why it was never a good idea to put things on hot light bulbs.

All was OK, I guess. People OK. Pets OK. House OK. Furniture OK.

The only casualties were one light bulb:

And my favorite kitchen towel.

I am confident Spencer learned his lesson, though.

Even if it was the hard way!