Even though marriage is supposed to make you one flesh, sometimes you still disagree on what food to order in for dinner.
Every now and then, Katr has a strong craving for sushi. While I enjoy sushi, it's not my favourite meal. So sometimes, when Katr wants to order sushi and I am not recovering from a stomach explosion, I will seek my dinner elsewhere. Somewhere...dirtier. And that somewhere is...the A&W.
I don't eat a lot of fast food in general, but I am disgusting and enjoy it when I have it. We have two fast food joints within very easy walking distance (i.e. too close to feel that walking to get the fast food in any way mitigates the eating of the fast food). I would get McDonalds more often if Big Macs didn't trigger a condition I like to call "persistent ass hose". A&W is the lesser of the local evils and you can get a root beer float!
So one fine evening, Katr shared her strong urge for sushi and I, excited to have an excuse for onion rings, beetled off to the Dub.
It was a beautiful night and a few people were firing up their grills, so there was a lovely woodsmoke smell in the neighbourhood as I headed home, clutching my dirty dinner.
Usually I time things so that I arrive home with my hot garbage at the same time Katr's sushi is delivered but this time, I arrived home before the sushi man. I wanted my food to stay warm, so I put the bag in the warming drawer in the oven and turned the drawer on to "Low".
As we waited for the sushi to arrive, I noticed that the subtle smell of woodsmoke had drifted through the open window and mentioned it to Katr, who breathed deeply in appreciation.
A few minutes later, the smoke smell was...a little stronger.
"Hmm," I said to Katr, "I guess maybe the neighbours have jumped on the grill bandwagon."
"Well," Katr said, "they're out of town until next week, so..."
"Oh," I said. Then turned to look at the warming drawer. "You don't think..."
Katr went over and opened the warming drawer. And then stood back as a TOWER OF FLAME rose from my burning dinner. It was a real Backdraft moment.
An aside: all this time, I thought the flame was in the oven proper and warm AIR was all that blew into the warming drawer. Apparently not. Apparently, the warming drawer has an open flame in it, you guys. And you what what burns real good? Yeah, it's paper.
As a pyrophobic, my first instinct was to abandon the house IMMEDIATELY. We had a good run! Adios, casa!
Katr, on the other hand, was cool as a cucumber.
"Hand me the lid from that pot," she said calmly as I rocketed fatly around, opening doors and fanning under the ultra-sensitive smoke detector, "and maybe a damp cloth."
I handed her the lid and then was like, "How wet should the cloth be? Should I get the hose and just flood the whole kitchen?"
Katr, getting the fire under control, "Not too wet, baby. I'm TRYING TO SAVE YOUR DINNER [EMPHASIS MINE]."
After a few dicey seconds of lidding the fire, Katr managed to not only keep the conflagration from consuming our home, but also save my Teen Burger Combo.
It tasted deliciously of campfire.
I like to think that I'm "good in a crisis", but I'm just not. You know who is? The woman who married me. THANK FUCK.
Katr - I love you and your calm response to fire. NEVER LEAVE ME.
