He might lose that title soon, however.
I was in the bedroom finishing up some laundry while Andrew was in the kitchen working his magic on the griddle.
We were out of syrup, so Andrew began to make some more. That is where things started going wrong. Multi-tasking is difficult enough. Multi-tasking first thing in the morning is very difficult, apparently.
From the bedroom I hear normal cooking sounds and then suddenly I hear...
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"What?" I responded while running into the kitchen. In our family we've learned that if anyone says something from the kitchen you should always run...and not walk to see what the problem is. Someone could be unconscious in there, you never know.
"Is sugar flammable?" he answered before I had even got to the kitchen...and it's not a long run.
"Well, I think that some of the alcohol from the maple flavoring caught on fire...but it was just a little bit, so I thought it would just die down...but while I was flipping the pancakes, the fire got a lot bigger. But it's okay because I put the lid on it and it's out now. So, sugar's flammable. Hmmm... that explains a lot."
Yeah, it does. Apparently he spilled quite a bit of syrup on the burner and into the little tray beneath the burner and the whole thing was up in flames. He quickly removed the pot from the burner and used the lid to suffocate the flames.
Luckily, like all good little scouts, my husband was a total pyromaniac with the rest of the troop and gained some excellent fire-putting-outer skills.
A few of the pancakes were browner than others. He forgot about flipping them in his fire fighting frenzy. But breakfast was good, we still have a kitchen, and it's not even very dirty...although Andrew did have fun experimenting with both vinegar and baking soda to get the tray clean. What is that little tray called anyway?
I suppose it is a good thing that we've had our small house fire. We learned in the little fire safety clinic we went to that each household experiences a small house fire every 10 years or so. It looks like we're good for the next 10 years.
As a side note, Andrew and I were just barely in the kitchen putting some groceries (from my mom's food storage) away. Apparently they aren't eating it fast enough anymore. Anyway, the little tray from the stove was sitting on the counter with dry baking soda sitting in it. I sighed, and thinking my husband a little crazy, moved the tray, and wiped off the counter. Andrew picked up the little tray and said, "Yeah, how is this supposed to help?"
"It's not." I said, shaking my head sympathetically.
"Oh," he said, looking confused, shocked and relieved all at the same time, "Everyone always says that baking soda helps."
"It does," I said, "But you have to get it wet and scrub it."
"Ohhhhh," he said, "I thought there was some magical property that it had that made stuff come off, but nothing was happening."
Alas, so much in life requires effort on our part. My lovely husband is now in the kitchen scrubbing.
I have yet another side note. Man, do I ever love my husband. He's just so...funny. I just finished adding the previous side note and walked into the kitchen to continue putting away the groceries. I looked at my husband diligently scrubbing away. Next to him sat the baking powder with a spoon in it.
"Oh, honey," I said, "Not this stuff. The baking soda."
"Really?" he asked, "I've been using this stuff all day."
"Yeah," I said, "Baking powder is a lot more expensive than baking soda..."
"Oh," he said, "And it doesn't seem to work well for cleaning because this isn't doing anything."
Well, that's because one is more powdery than the other. It's the little grain thingies in the baking soda that help get tough things off... It's also a lot more versatile than baking powder, which is typically just used for cooking (and the occasional science project, although powder works better because it's a purer substance).
He's now scrubbing with baking powder. I just asked him if it's working better. He has confirmed that it is. I hope that he isn't getting sprayed with dirty chunks of baking soda. He's wearing his Sunday shirt...sigh...
Emily also had a little adventure with fire today, although hers was less dangerous.
For lunch, I went out with Andrew's family to Winger's for Sarah's birthday lunch. Andrew had to work, so he wasn't there.
Everyone got something to do with sticky chicken fingers, except Karen who got a plate of fish and chips.
Reid and I got the sticky chicken finger quesadillas. Sarah and Jacob got plain sticky chicken fingers. Emily ordered sticky chicken fingers with fire sauce.
She recently won a lemon-eating contest so she fancies herself somewhat of an invincible eater. She did remarkably well with the fire sauce... Is she brave enough to have a broccoli-eating contest with me? Probably not, so how invincible is she, really?
Anyway, she was quite comical to watch trying to eat her chicken fingers drenched in fire sauce. She was crying, and the waitress was continually refilling Emily's water cup. Emily drained 5 cups of water. Once she drank so much water so fast that it started coming out of her nose. It was quite disgusting, really...but oh, so very funny!
She didn't end up finishing her chicken fingers and brought some home. Karen wrote on her doggie-bag (which is actually a box), "Emily: hot stuff." Emily is determined that she is going to finish eating those chicken fingers. I think she has 4 of 6 left over, so we'll have to see...