… when you don’t watch your taco shells as they warm in the toaster oven.
She was helping SuperMan get dinner on the table Friday night – we were having tacos and fajitas and he was busy finishing up dinner on the stove.
All of a sudden, Big Girl shouts, “Flames, Daddy, flames!!”
I came running and threw open the front door. (not to run away, mind you)
SuperMan carried the (burning) toaster oven out to the front porch.
The shells were toast – literally.
As was the toaster oven.
Thankfully, nothing else was harmed, the fire was contained to the inside of the toaster oven, and we had more taco shells (I know you wondered) for dinner.
Never a dull moment around here, I tell you.