A couple days ago, yeah, the one where I was home all day sick, so that would be Wednesday, Heather came home early from work. Thus far, when she's come home from work having not eaten, if there aren't known leftovers in the fridge, she'll stop by some place and pick up lunch. As she did on Wednesday.
So, she arrived home, said hello, puttered in the kitchen, then came out to the living room, where I sat with migraine fairies sprinkling headache dust all over me, the dogs lying on the couch next to me. She jumped on her computer and started typing away. After a few minutes, we heard a little bang!
Heather looked up, then around. I thought little of the sound.
Twenty seconds later, we heard a louder, most insistent bang!. "What was that?" Heather asked.
"It's the toaster oven. Something's just settling in the oven."
"The toaster oven?" she asked, dubiously. She stood up, eyeing me carefully, possibly seeing me pull one of the fairies out of my hair and throw it against the window, and walked into the kitchen.
"Oh my gosh."
I turned to look at Heather, who was standing in the kitchen door.
She rushed forward. "Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!"
The fairy I was in the process of crushing momentarily forgotten, I stood up and hurried into the kitchen. Heather was near the toaster oven, trying to figure out what to do. The dogs ran in behind me, howling. "You're supposed to howl before it catches on fire!" she yelled to the dogs, the room a dark yellow glow from the smoke billowing from the toaster oven.
I hurried over and looked over her shoulder. By opening the toaster oven door, Heather had put out most of the flames. Enough for me to see the source of the flames was the paper wrapping around a burger she was heating up in the toaster oven. "How are we going to get it out?" she asked, looking at the smoldering lump of her lunch.
"Eh, tongs," I answered, pulling a set out from the door next to me, and reaching in and pulling the burning ember out.
I set it down and hurried away, as she picked up the burger with the tongs. Three seconds later, I was hovering over her shoulder, camera in hand.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Documenting the best roomie ever. Today was a crappy day. This is making the blog."