It was a Sunday night. I’d baked potatoes in the oven. When I do this, I roll them in olive oil and sea salt and then wrap them in foil. I put a pan covered in foil in the oven to catch the drippings but invariably, it leaves a stench behind. We have a small house. So when something in the oven is stinky, it stinks up the whole house. (However, the potatoes were DELISH.)
Now. Just to give you some idea of the setup. We have an open concept living/dining/kitchen. There’s a bar where the stove/oven is and a small walkway between that and the sofa. Husband was sitting on the sofa watching Sunday night football. And I decide I’m going to light some candles to get rid of the smell.
Dexter the Cat has a bed which he’s a tad too big for. He’s fat but he’s losing weight. The candles are on the bar area right above him. He’s happily sleeping in his bed when I grab the box of matches. I strike the match but the stupid thing breaks in half. I watch the match end – as if in slow motion – fall toward the cat lighting in midair.
Two things cross my mind in about 2.3 seconds.
