Well... it coulda' been worse... :-)
Don't all parents have a moment when the kids come close to burning the house down? Maybe it was just me... I still remember when Mom asked me what I was doing with the chemistry set in the garage. I said "Oh, I'm making rocket fuel". The look on her face was priceless.
Glad you got it under control quickly.
Hang in there...
Heh...
There were so many mistakes made that led up to this scenario that I can't even begin to number them.
My parents' home had a screened window over the sink that we kept open, at least a little bit, all year round when we were home and awake. (It was seven feet off the ground, and a trellised honeysuckle tree-vine full of bees and wasps came up to the bottom sill. VERY safe, even in that neighborhood!)
One summer day, I put a pot of wieners on the stove to boil (dunno if I was planning on wiener sandwiches, or my wiener-rice saucepan casserole). Before they came to a boil, I was drawn out the back door -- something about our five dogs, probably. Both my parents were outside, and when they realized I had come out, too, they gave me a task. You just didn't tell my mother "No," or "Just a minute," or anything other than "Yes, Mamma."
Suffice to say, I got distracted.
We heard the firetruck coming --- couldn't miss it, the dogs were all howling counterpoint. When we realized it had turned into our block, we all --- including the dogs -- ran down to the gate on the other side of the house from the kitchen --- unless it was imperative, you didn't casually walk past the honeysuckle tree-vine.
We lived in the middle of the block. It wasn't until the truck when down to the corner, turned around in the church parking lot, and then came back up the street that I remembered the wieners.
Luckily, it wasn't even a fire, just smoke from the burnt saucepan. Our neighbors --- good neighbors! --- had seen the smoke pouring out of the kitchen window, had tried to call, had even rung the doorbell, all in vain since we were out in the back yard, a good fifty feet from the house.
As I recall, that may have been the last time my daddy used a belt on me ...