Insomnia!

Don't you hate it when you can't sleep? Here it is, 3 am and I feel like I have had a nice double shot mocha and forgot to say "decaf".Not like I have ever done that before. So as I am laying there staring at my dark ceiling waiting(unsuccessfully) to feel tired, my mind flashed back to a very embarrassing event from many years ago. Ree Drummond aka. the Pioneer Woman (she has a great blog and I am an avid follower!) has on her site a category labeled "The Humiliation Chronicles"in which she generously shares her most embarrassing moments.But I digress.  So, to avoid plagiarizing her site,I am going to call mine "The Mortification Monologues" Now, bear in mind, I am only sharing what I have told others personally, and none of it is too horribly humiliating, so I don't embarrass my children or my husband! :) And besides, they have to love me regardless.

     It happened on a Sunday. Bad things always seem to creep up on me on Sunday, why I have no idea, but for the purposes of this story it kind of sets the tone for what is to come...Imagine if you will: I am in my nightgown, with my hair up in curlers, late Sunday morning, waiting for Nate to get home from work at noon. Thinking like a good wife, I assume he would appreciate some lunch when he gets home. Rummaging through the refrigerator, I find a leftover piece of steak from the night before and I decide to bake a potato in the microwave, heat up the steak and have it ready when he gets home. Our microwave is a giant dinosaur that can barely melt cheese, so I flip the dial~really far~ and let it rip while I take Clarissa into the bathroom and get her into the tub (she is just a baby, about 1) We are goofing around and doing kiddy bathtub games and just having a great time when all of a sudden I hear the shriek of the smoke detector in the hall! Looking past the door I see billows of smoke rolling through the hallway! With every story about trailers burning to a pile of cinders in six minutes flashing through my mind, I grabbed Clarissa out of the bathtub and wrapped her in a towel and ran to the kitchen, I could barely see, but the microwave was belching black smoke and I wasn't waiting around to see if trailers really could burn in six minutes! I ran across the yard and banged on the neighbors door and told him "I think my microwave is on fire" he flew off the couch and dialed 911, and by the time he and I had stepped out on to the porch, we could already hear the sirens wailing in the distance (Apparently the firemen had heard the same six minute stories I had heard!) If this had been an actual emergency, their prompt response would have been a huge comfort, and I am sure you can already tell where I am going with this....Well, here they come horns and sirens blaring, all the neighbors are out lining the streets waiting to catch a glimpse of the flames. A nice cop, bless his heart, has me (in my nightgown and curlers remember) sit in his squad car. "Are you OK, Miss?" he asks me, "Oh, yes I am Just Fine" I tell him, hoping all the while the baby doesn't wet on me while we sit there (I just plucked her out of the tub). A long while later, out comes this big burly fireman with all his gear on....HOLDING MY BAKED POTATO!!!! "Uh, Miss? your potato is done!" He laughs, I laugh even though I WANT TO DIE!!! Then, here comes poor Nate driving through the chaos to find neighbors and firemen are all at our house! He looks at me and says in this bewildered voice, "What on earth is going on?" Then I just start bawling and freaking out said "I burned the potato and I thought the trailer was on fire and wwwwwaaaaaaaahhhhh!!!" I was a mess. I threatened him with his life if he told ANYONE at church that day what had happened. I think was about four years later that I would even tell anyone the story, luckily the sting abated some with time....But on a brighter note, I bet the firemen took that potato and put in on the firehouse kitchen table and told the story over and over and everyone laughed until they wet their pants! Hey, it really was funny...later. Much Later.