Don't Panic

Thursday, December 12 2002

Carrie has a wide range of shreaks. Some are for when she’s unable to find a sock, or if she drops a spoon, or there’s a spider in the sink. Things that get me to come running from the other side of the Earth ready to fight whatever evil foe is ascending upon her.

Last night, as I’m experimenting with moveabletype

on my new webserver, I hear a mild noise from the kitchen. Like a big “umm” and, then “umm, Michael, fire”. I think she said something to that effect at least twice, but it wasn’t the usual shreak. Finally it kicks in, and I head out to the kitchen where she’s at with Leah in my arms, and lo and behold, there are twelve inch flames shooting up from the stove. She runs to me, grabs Leah, and gets out of my way as if I know what I’m doing.

It turns out that some goo was burning in the tray beneath the burner in a big way, and what looked like a much scarier thing went away with a lot of blowing at it. But it was one of those things that could have gotten crazy, so it was kind of hair raising.

This “opposites” in reactions thing from my lovely wife continue to suggest that at times we all have our George moments. Which reminds me that next Tuesday is purple-velvet-jump-suit day at Xerox.