In Case of Wife, Break Glass

I only left for 2 minutes.

Our freshman volleyball player was ready to be fetched from practice at the high school around the corner. All was peaceful in the house, so I’d handle the retrieval. Dinner would be ready when I got back so we could serve and eat together before scattering again.

I dash. Steve is entrenched in a deadline, and though he’s managing the pressure well, I see his need for focus. Two little boys are joyfully playing somewhere downstairs without need for attention until I return.

Be Right Back.

[Approximate Time Lapse: 4.6 minutes]

You’ve heard the expression about Hell Breaking Loose?
In these few seconds, my husband would face a simultaneous triple threat that was nothing short of comical.

1. Door closes behind me while labrador watches, worried about when I’ll return to feed her dinner.

2. Steve’s phone rings with the appointment from important colleague.

3. The pad of butter I left on the stove catches flame because I failed to actually turn the hot burner OFF.

4. Visiting kindergartener appears, having uncharacteristically wet his pants.

As Steve answers the phone, he sees the billowing smoke in the kitchen. There is a flame. He juggles, drops the phone, grabs the Emeril off the stove tosses it in the sink. Extinguished. He hears crying kid so he waves through thick smoke, and charges through the bathroom door. Still on adrenaline, he bumps into a worried and weeping 5 year old who’s just suffered an unexpected pee as well as a frantic strange-gigantic Dad busting through the door.

Really? Are there cameras?

By the time I got home.  Steve was dazed and recovering in the foggy-smelly kitchen. The smoke was thick and the kid was wearing Jack’s slightly too large red basketball shorts.

My whole face apologizes. I wait for him to laugh first.   He does.

He was raised by a woman who said, “You can do it the normal way. Or you can do it the memorable way.”

We usually thrive on memorable.