Look at what Naarah did to my HOUSE!

 

 

 

 

People, be warned. Talking to Nara is not only hazardous to your ears, but it is also quite dangerous for your house. She is capable of distracting you to the point where grease will combust into flames 3 feet high. No lie. She's a mess.
So here's how she destroyed my kitchen...
I was minding my business, creating a few scrap book pages with Gabe for his teacher's birthday, when I get a call. NAARAH! I pick up, she begins to talk about herself. I tried to focus on family meal time by starting the last part of our meal, french fries. I normally bake these, healthier ya know, but Naarah distracted me with her fast talking ways and next thing I know I'm pouring oil in my new Ikea wok, which is totally a bargain, $7. I turn on the stove and go back to scrap booking only 20 feet away from the stove.
Naaarah continues to yap and yap. The attentive listener that I am, I'm listening and then I hear the oil snap and I say to myself, oils ready! I turn to the kitchen and it's already filling the kitchen with thick black smoke.
I yell to naarah that I have to go, I hang up. I turn off the stove and move the wok, from the heat, but it's smoking even worse now. I try to open the windows, but it's stuck just enough that I begin to panic, and I see a small flame out of the corner of my eye. I panic even more now. I cant remember what you're suppose to do. I remember what not to do, but that's it. I know I'm not suppose to move it, but the more I think, I can't think.
Within 2 seconds the small flame is now a huge flame and climbing my microwave. I grab the wok handle with a paper towel; the flames are so hot the towels burst into flames. I stomp out the fire on the floor while I see that the flames are now higher, up my cabinets. I know I am not suppose to touch the pan, but the more I hesitate the higher the fire is getting.
I'm now yelling for Jesus asking him, what do I do. Gabe is yelling for me, just yelling my name, not really saying much. (mom disclaimer: The most I can figure of Ava is, Ava is now changing outfits and switching her princess shoes upstairs) I can't think of anything to do, but I do see my kicthen on fire and as much as I don't like the kitchen it's still mine, and I don't like it (afte-thoughts, not actual-time-thoughts). I don't know how I got from the stove to the door, but I got there. I don't remember how the door got opened but it is opened. I walk backwards, because I want my back to the wind, while the flames are shooting up. The grease is spilling all over the floor and it starts little fires where it is spilling. Luckily, the tile is cold enough to cool the flaming grease, the door on the other hand and my garage rug are not so lucky. I drop the grease in the middle of the garage floor and go back inside to see if the flames are still climbing the cupboards. They aren't, but I have to stomp out the flame on the stairs. Apparently the wok was the heat source and the fire didn't totally take hold on the cabinets.

I than crossed the lake of grease in my kitchen that spilled on the floor and got Gabe and pushed him out the front door. I yelled for Ava who was coming down the stairs, new outfit on, and I turned to see if Gabe was out of the house, he was. Now Ava disappears. I yell for her,... silence. I run back into the house into the kitchen. The flames are out, but I see her crying in the grease on the floor. The girl decided to go out the garage door and slips in the grease. I panic and am yelling at her, are you burned, she's covered in the grease from the floor. She's yelling yes. I ask her if the grease has burned her as I'm dragging her out of the house. She finally understands that I'm worried not mad. I tear off her pants and ask her if her legs hurt. They do, but only because she fell so hard on the floor, not because she's got burned. She sits in her underwear on the front step next to her crying brother. They are really scared.
I tell the kids to stay on the front stoop. I don't know why I told them to stay. I don't know a lot at this point.
It has only been 1-2 minutes since I hung up on Naarah, the fire starter.
My poor neighbors are freaked out because a 7 month pregnant lady holding her belly, from running over to their house, is crying at their door asking them to watch her kids because there is a fire at the house. Don comes running back to the house with me and sees the damage. All fires are out, he hugs me and settles me down. We check the flames in the wok and it has burned out. Reality sets in and I'm freaked out. I did everything I shouldn't have done within this situation.
But Praise Jesus all is fine. All is more than fine, All is safe and sound. "He will send HIS angels charge over me" and HE did.
Moral of this story: Don't talk to Naarah at any point of cooking, scrap booking, driving in traffic, giving birth, washing floors, roller blading, and mowing the lawn.
The kitchen will be back to normal in 1-2 months!