#flame fest

Where is all this hate coming from?

One time when I was about five, my mom was making homemade maple syrup in our kitchen. She went to put my then three year old sister down for a nap. Falling asleep herself, my mom forgot all about the syrup boiling on the stove and her five year old in the living room watching Strawberry Shortcake's episode entitled: "The Best Pet Yet". Unaware that meanwhile, the unattended syrup began to burn and eventually caught a flame. My mother was unintentionally burning our beloved home to the ground. Smelling the smoke, my five-year-old investigative instincts went into overdrive. Donned with my finest blanket (appropriately named "Blankie") I crawled into the fiery depths of culinary flame fest. One look at the smoke and flames, Blankie and I got out of there fast. So fast in fact, that I can only think to compare it to something along the lines of a bat out of hell. A sprinter right after a gun goes off, or even a ten minute shopping spree at The Gap. I went and informed my mother of the current Fahrenheit 451 situation in our kitchen. She in turn called the publicly acclaimed Beverly Hills fire department for backup. The kitchen was gone. The syrup ruined. Smoke had damaged everything. The good part about this tragedy was that my mom let me finish watching Strawberry Shortcake after the firefighters took off.