Imagine a beautiful stainless steel grill.
The grill is lit because my husband asked me too. (I am a nice wife, that way)
We're in the house. We check outside, and there are flames billowing out of the grill.
Kyle runs outside, throws the lid open, and flames are going at least 8 feet into the air. He runs in the house for water.
Water is thrown on the grill to get the fire out.
He comes inside for tongs.
He uses said tongs to remove the remaining melted plastic from the scraper/brush that I left in the grill, when I started it. This took him about 15 minutes, plus a good hose down for the grill.
We're just happy I didn't burn the house down.
3 comments:
Yikes!!! I hate anything to do with fuel and flames. Even the lawn mower scares me.
Wow, tha tis very full on, good thing you caught it on time! Coming from a fellow blonde I have made similar mistakes! lol
I have a slightly different take on this "blonde event".
This strikes me as a 'crazy like a fox' situation. Maybe it should be called 'crazy like a blonde' or 'genius like a blonde'. You pick.
Anyway, My take is that you really didn't want to light the grill. Your Hubs job, really. So you 'lit the grill' in such a manner that you will NEVER be asked to go light the grill, again.
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