Playing With Fire
I went back into the kitchen to sulk and finish making my sandwich. As I was putting the deli turkey back into the fridge, I thought I smelled something odd. I sniffed the air inside the fridge, but that wasn’t the problem. I sniffed the air in the kitchen, but it wasn’t coming from inside the kitchen at all, even though it had been pretty smoky this morning. I stuck my head out the backdoor, but there was nothing going on out there either. As I picked up my plate and made myself comfortable at the kitchen table, I heard my mom yell.
“Lulaaaaa! Call 9-1-1!” I ran up the stairs to see what was wrong. My bathroom was on fire! I had left my old curling iron plugged in and a towel that was hanging over it caught fire. What else can happen to me today? I was afraid to ask. I grabbed my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed 9-1-1.
“My bathroom is on fire!” I shouted into the phone. The operator told me to calm down and asked me ridiculous questions like “where do you live” and “what’s your name.” How could that help? Finally, she told me there was someone on the way and get everyone out of the house. Then I was supposed to w...