{the name's ken. chick ken.} |
Sooo... another first happened last night.
Shellie was baking chicken in the oven, and mind you, she's done this before with consistent results, but last night she changed up one little thing that made all the difference.
On the bottom of the baking sheet under the wire rack where her chicken resides during its stay in the oven, she placed my equivalent-of-parchment-paper-while-baking silicone mat.
Apparently, the oven, the chicken, and the mat conspired against us.
As I was getting ready for bed, what do I hear, but some strange, really loud beeping/siren-ish noise coming from outside the bathroom.
I dash out to the bedroom about to ask Shellie "what's that!?", but as soon as I step out the door, it becomes very obvious to me just what that was...
Our fire alarm was going off.
Oh shoot.
Shellie's standing halfway between the kitchen and the bedroom with a panicked, "what now!" face and I'm standing in the doorway to the bathroom, yelling at her to "open the door!!!" and pointing madly.
The next several minutes were panic-filled and full of "what do we do?!?" and "how do we get this to stop?!?" questions.
Needless to say, this was both our first times dealing with a ringing fire alarm where our parents weren't there to get it to stop.
Our solution therefore included:
1. Panicking.
2. Opening the sliding door to the balcony as far as it would go,
3. Turning on the fan about our dining table as high as it would go,
4. Standing in front of the fire alarm, hoping beyond hope that waving cardboard around like wild women and moving the air in front of the little detector would get the noise to cease and desist.
5. Chuckling nervously when it finally did stop and continuing to wave around cardboard anyways to get the burnt air out of the apartment because we didn't want it to go off again.
It still smelled of smoke in our apartment when I woke up this morning.
Sadness.
But it's all okay now because we had the sliding door open all day with the fan going because Shellie had to cook a ridiculous amount of dumplings for ACA's Dumpling Night and the cooking oil smell from that was also pretty strong.
{perfection, no?} |
Mmm. Potstickers.
Potstickers are love.
You can't disagree with me because there really isn't another option there.
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