We had no ABA therapy yesterday. So, rather than go to work, I took the day off. Do you ever have a little plan in your mind that goes awry? Yeah, that was yesterday.
So, night before last, I decided I would have a little microwave popcorn. Unfortunately, I have the attention span of a gnat. Normally, I microwave only one thing -a Stouffer’s Baked Chicken Breast- not popcorn and I always microwave it for 5 minutes and 30 seconds. So, you know what I did.
I microwaved the popcorn for 5 minutes and 30 seconds. At what moment did I realize my error? At 5 minutes and 29 seconds. The next thing I heard was the beeping of the microwave.
I had walked away to help the little guy in the bathroom and simply forgot about it. Of course, right in the moment of realization and beeping, the hubs just walked in the house from the office, to see my stellar microwaving talents. When I got to the kitchen, it was thick with smoke and smelled – well – like burnt popcorn. Actually, more like I tried to stuff a couple of rotting corpses in the microwave and burned them. It was bad.
Please tell me I’m not the only one who has done this! Truthfully? This is not my first microwave popcorn incident. I have done this, at least, oh…say, four times, here, at home. I’ve also burnt popcorn in an office setting. Yes, my coworkers were really happy with me that day. But that was about 15 years ago. The last four times? Aside from yesterday, all in the last three years or so…
The funny part is that the little guy is hyposensitive and completely unimpressed by smells of any kind. You could put him over a smoldering pile of garbage and he would continue to play the same as if he was in a garden of fragrant flowers. At this particular moment, I was grateful for that.
The hubs took the popcorn ashes outside and hosed them down so we would not have a garbage fire. I was hobbling around trying to open all the windows. (The knee is not quite right yet.) I stunk it up through the whole house.
When I was done cleaning the brownish orange goo off the inside and outside of the microwave, I washed that incredibly large round glass plate inside which doesn’t fit in the sink right. Naturally, water went everywhere. So I felt like a failed, somewhat like bad arsonist last night while my son, who is trying to learn the difference between good and bad said “Mommy is….” waiting for me to fill in the blank. I declined.
For penance, I vowed to myself that I would get a new mop and Pine Sol the hell out of the kitchen the next morning.
In the morning, the house still stunk. With our new summer schedule, even though we were having a little day off, just the little guy and me, I still had to make it for speech and OT. Happily, we got ready and escaped the stinky house. Ah, fresh air. We made it to speech right on time and walked in to about five people in the waiting room. Two women were looking exceptionally unhappy. I smiled at one and she still looked pissed off. Well, that was rude.
I sat down and then it hit me like a wave. Someone in the room did not know what deodorant was. It was 95 degrees outside. Two women walked out of the office. Unfortunately, they were not the culprits. One who left was the scowler. Now it made sense. She had already been nose-assaulted and had finally escaped! What could I do?!
The stench was so overwhelming that I was alternating between holding my breath and breathing through my mouth. Two women and a boy about 8 years old remained in the waiting room with me while my own little guy went safely to the back rooms.
Which of them was it? It must be the one closest to me – it was too overwhelming for it not to be her. Luckily, my son did not say anything because, he did not notice. What I wouldn’t have given for his hyposensitivity at that moment!
An hour later, both women left and so did the smell. I felt slightly dizzy from holding my breath for so long. Another hour of speech and we were off to Target for mop buying! The rest of the day was uneventful but full of fresh air, a new mop, Lysol and rubber gloves. As a bonus? Don’t be jealous but I bought myself a new screwdriver. For some reason, every time I go to change batteries for the little guy’s toys, hubs has taken away the screwdrivers and I cannot find them. Oh Target, how I love your one stop shopping!
Once home it was an exciting afternoon of cleaning and replacing batteries. The new screwdriver had a little light on it. My son was intrigued. As I changed the batteries on one of his old toys, he exclaimed, “Mommy’s screwing!”
And this was my day off. Now, my house smells like a combination of burnt popcorn and pine. Ahhh…