No, this is not a exotic cocktail but rather an unexpected happening one gloomy morning.
Nearly every morning that I wear my bathrobe I remember this & just need to get it out of my system, so bear with me. This happened about a year ago now. I’m not sure what this story has to do with anything but I just get tickled thinking about it.
I have a tendency to just literally "drag-butt" when I wake up. It’s not that I have a hard time getting out of bed, on the contrary, I’m up alright, it’s just that I feel the desperate need to look like an electrocuted Rastafarian on downers in beggar attire until roughly 9:30 in the morning. Yes, it’s true & if you live with me you’d verify this sad statement. Not to mention if there was a contest for worst bad hair days I’d win hands down.....ON AN AVERAGE DAY! (but that’s another story)
I have this enormous bathrobe that I got about 7 years go on my birthday, and in my blind love for it I try to imagine that it’s not a ratty 7 year old bathrobe but rather a warm & fuzzy old friend that I pull out at the end of the year to warm my soul. I ceremoniously throw it on, shlump down the stairs. And what do I do before anything else? No, I do not look in the mirror. (Very funny!) No, I don't brush my teeth, or wash my face. (the secret to my "flawless" complication?)That’s right, to the kitchen to put on a pot of water to boil.
So on this particular mornings of mornings, I shlump down, looking as ghastly & electrocuted as ever. (thank God, DH is already taking out the trash, no need to alarm him with my appearance, which he seems to take in stride anyway!) I grab the kettle fill it up & clunk it down on the stove. It is upon turning on the stove that I am met with a rather sudden & rude awakening. My entire left bathrobed arm bursts into flames, (No, this is not a joke) and not just normal “flames” mind you but those silent, near invisible, evil blue flames that you can hear hissing. As I’m trying to half-heartedly pat out the flames on my arm (occupational hazard of being a cook is a lack of fear of fire). Immediately, I feel a gust of alarmingly warm air on my neck, followed by a toasty sensation on my back & left arm as well. It is at this point that I tear my bathrobe off stomping wildly on top of it like I'm at a rock concert and there is no tomorrow…....wearing only, or should I say NOT wearing…….well, bygones....Let’s just say the kitchen was coooold, I was awake & I did not need a coffee that morning.
Surprisingly, my bathrobe ended up with only a very faint yellowish brown staining…….OVER PRACTICALLY THE ENTIRE THING!! And upon further inspection the tag says that my bathrobe is (what do you know) NOT flame resistant!! Thank God it didn’t read “FLAMMABLE”
I sort of secretly wish someone was there to see it now, cuz’ I’m sure I looked like a total splendid moron. I’m sure I was a sight to behold. Something you only see on Japanese TV, where the skinny comedy duo team light each other's yukata on fire & jump screaming into huge vat of wasabi. But still it’s always funny to think back on
I confess, up until that point I had been guilty of serious neglect when it came to loose clothing in the kitchen. If my DH would let me, I might have cooked all day in my bathrobe. But you can be sure now that I’m a bit more aware of how close I get to the fire with my “non-flame resistant” clothing. I still get a kick out of how I’ll periodically check the back of my arm if I suddenly feel a heat wave from off the stove.
So my friend, if you ever see me wildly spinning in circles patting my back screaming, “GET IT OFF, OH GOD, GET IT OFF!!” you’ll know why.
Have a good one! And be safe in the kitchen.