We should be scared. REALLY SCARED.
Pregnancy brain has hit me worse than it hits most women. That may have something to do with the fact that I was a bit scatterbrained to begin with. The other day I backed into my dad’s car. And then got out of my car without putting it in park and it rolled across the parking. Damaging a car isn’t a horrible deed. Not compared to trying to burn down your house.
Yes, you heard me right. I almost burned down my house. I had made some polymer beads a few days ago and left them sitting on the stove because I hadn’t finished them yet. Well, when I went to make spaghetti tonight I turned on the wrong burner. Instead of turning on the burner with the pot of water for the noodles, I turned on the burner that my tray of polymer beads was on. Five minutes later, as I’m in the living room on my laptop, I smell burning. BAD burning. I run to the kitchen and the back half of my stove seems to be on fire. I had caught my polymer beads (and the paper tray they were stacked on) on fire. And it was smokin’ like crazy! Luckily, I think pretty calmly during stressful situations and I turned on the fan, put the fire out, and opened every window in the house. And still managed to save the ground beef for the spaghetti. Does this make me a hero? I doubt it. I am the one who started the catastrophe in the first place.
So now our house is smoky, stinky (polymer clay smells HORRIBLE when burned), and freezing. What fun!
Just wait until my hubby gets home. I might have to go under house arrest. Who knows what else I’m going to do.