Here lies today's disaster. In an effort to be slightly-too-industrious, I headed to the commissary for a quick errand, quite confidently thinking that I'd turned off the burner reheating our pasta.
And y'know those smoke alarms that go off when I saute onions? Well, they didn't go off when our house filled with smoke. Ugg. I don't know if the pan is salvageable. It is so unbelievably burnt.
I had the presence of mind to put the pan out in the garage to cool - where the billowing smoke wouldn't (ironically) set off the smoke detectors, now that I was home (and not in the mood for one more annoyance.) I set the pan on our straw doormat, because I was pretty sure that if the scorching hot pan touched the ice-cold pavement, something would crack forever. Probably the pan.
Also, it made me feel slightly calmer to begin cleansing the house, with the evil pot out of sight.
I put the groceries away. I made guacamole for dinner. We ate an entire bowlful. Needed to use those avocados anyhow, heh. And Little One loved it, yay. She patted my head at one point, as if to comfort me. Actually, turned out she was just grabbing at my hairclip, but hey. It felt comforting.
After she was in bed, I went out to investigate the pot, which had been crackling loudly like a bowl of nuclear rice crispies. It was cool now. I sighed, took the above photos, and picked up the pot. The mat came up with it.
... The pot had melted our straw mat to itself. Didn't even know that could happen.
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