Who knew my late night junk food habit could be so dangerous?
What’s that? Oh, just my dignity and pride all melted and burnt, sitting in the basin of my sink. “It looks like a tea kettle, Wendy”. No, go put your glasses on, and look closer. See there? Right around that melted shit? Yeah, that’s where my dignity flew away as the damn smoke detector went off.
How could a grown woman set a tea kettle full of water on fire? I have no idea. Magic, sexiness, or maybe I just can’t boil water in a tea kettle like an adult.
I walked through the steps several times today just trying to figure out how it happened. I’m still puzzled. Honestly.
I got hungry and decided I would eat some of the ramen that my kids begged for, and then left for dead in the cabinet. I grabbed my trusty tea kettle, popped it on the stove full of water, and then turned to the counter to chop some green onions to put in my ramen.
It’s only junk food if you don’t put something green in it.
Then something weird happened. Things got hazy like I was at an 80s Prince concert. I turned to see where all of theatrical smoke was coming from and was surprise to find my tea kettle in flames.
Huh, now that’s something.
I just kind of stood there for a few seconds, Raspberry Beret stuck in my head now, and trying to reconcile what I was seeing with real life. All the while my precious tea kettle was melting all over the stove. It was oddly funny. The damn thing was full of water. It was a little excessive actually. No one was going to believe me. Suddenly I thought of all the police and firefighters that would question the validity of my story.
“Tea kettles full of water don’t just catch fire, ma’am. Now get in the cell”.
I’d be thrown in the slammer for arson. A glamorous crime, sure, but no one wants to go to jail for a crime they didn’t commit. Especially one done in such a lame way. Knowing my luck I’d serve 15 years for arson with a tea kettle in Siberia due to overcrowding here in some experimental foreign exchange program . It would be all over the news. I’d get some awful hashtag on Twitter like #teakettlevillain or #teakettleidiot where everyone photoshops pictures of themselves with my burnt up tea kettle committing pretend crimes. There I’d be, freezing to death in prison, reading out of date Ladies Home Journal.
The smoke detector woke me from my spiraling panic attack. I ran to the stove, and carefully took the tea kettle off stove, turned the burner off, and blew the flames out. The kettle was gingerly taken to the sink and washed. I thought I could maybe save it. Nope, the whistle spout was melted shut. It died a glorious Viking death. I shed a few tears.
Goodbye, little blue tea kettle. May you pour out tea for all the fierce Vikings who have gone before you in Valhalla tonight.