I find myself writing a lot about Natalie’s recent transgressions and feel just a slight bit guilty about not sharing some of my own. It’s only fair, right? Here’s a little story that I regret having to share.
While I was at work, and Natalie was home recovering from her concussion, she called me to tell me that she wanted to try making a dessert for the kids. The recipe called for honey. My last full jar of “homemade” honey sat on the shelf in front of her, but it had crystallized. I offered to help her decrystallize it for her so she would have honey for her creation, and I planned to do this as soon as I returned home from work. In the meantime, she decided to go for a walk.
As soon as I got home with the dogs, I headed to the kitchen to start the simple process of preparing the honey for her recipe. Decrystalizing honey is a simple process that just involves slowly heating the honey until it becomes its normal liquid state. I usually do this by placing the honey bottle in a small pot of water I cook on the stove until it’s just below its boiling point. I turn off the burner and walk away for 20 minutes and return to decrytallized honey.
When I started the process this time, I was distracted by a phone call from Natalie needing to be picked up from another location (she wasn’t driving due to her concussion).
I rushed out the door to get her and forgot I left the pot on the stove. It’s a gas stove too!
Due to several unforeseen delays, it wasn’t until about 90 minutes later that we returned home. I’ll blame Natalie for the delay and for those of you that know her completely understand the predicament I was in. I parked the car in front of the house, and Natalie started walking towards the front door with me close behind. As she opened the front door, she immediately stepped into the unmistakable smell of burnt sugar, blinding smoke, and two big Great Danes that were very happy to have us home. She immediately started yelling, “There’s smoke in our house! There’s smoke in our house! Where is it coming from! The dogs! The dogs!” At this point, I immediately recalled the honey I left sitting on the stove and found myself trying my best to console Natalie as she ran towards the dogs who at this point seemed a little alarmed by Natalie’s panicked reaction.
While she checked on the dogs, I quickly snuck into the kitchen and managed to turn off the stove flame right away, but not before the honey jar and pot were permanently fused together by a smelly black glob of burnt honey goo. There was no way for me to hide the evidence, and I had to face her and explain the entire situation to a very distraught dog mom. It was an embarrassment for me, but I showed her the blackened hot amalgam of carbon, glass, and steel that formed on our stove and quickly threw away the smelly concoction before she had much of an opportunity to inspect it further.
I opened all the windows and threw out some box fans to rid our house of the stench and haze formed everywhere. After ensuring the dogs would live and as a means of diversion, I quickly suggested that the two of us walk over to the nearby Yacht Club for tacos chips and a glass of wine, and she happily obliged. It was as if the smoke scare never even happened, and I wondered a little if that had something to do with her recent head injury, but I digress…
It was a beautiful ending to yet another exciting and memorable day. The next day, Natalie was still able to make her dessert with a half jar of leftover honey found while cleaning up the kitchen mess we left behind. A week later, after a long day’s work, I still perceive a subtle whiff of burnt sugar as I enter the foyer of our home, a gentle reminder of the day I could have burnt our house down. Life is so good!
