Should have stayed in bed xxx 

The crux of the matter is that I am poorly sick. 

We’re talking a head full of bogies, burning chest, sore throat, headache and queasy tummy. 

From the minute I got up this morning to now I have had the opposite of the Midas Effect! 

Everything I have touched has turned to poo! 

Whilst trying to prepare breakfast and lunchboxes this morning I knocked over the milk, tripped over the dishwasher, nearly knocked myself out with the fridge door, put chocolate protein powder on my spinach and the list goes on. 

I managed to get off to work and contained my germs to myself, kept my head down and got through to the end of the day. 

I collected the boys from school but by the time I got home my nose was red raw, my tummy was turning and I was ready for the next lot of meds and a snooze. 

A little sprinkle of joy was that Coco the hamster made an appearance to reassure us she was not in fact dead. 

At this point I was on a conveyor belt ticking the chores off the list, each time a step close to my bubble bath safe haven. 

Ollie wanted bolognaise for tea, Harry wanted a bowl of cheesy beans. 

Harry was excited to meet up with his friend Max on Fortnite but his Switch was out of power. So I plugged him into the mains in the lounge. The console not my child, it’s not been that much of a bad day! 

Ollie was happily playing Roblox online with his friend Josh at the dining room table whilst humming “Sunroof” over and over again. This is something I don’t think I could get tired of, but never say never and all that jazz!

I’d just thrown some butter in a pan on the hob on a low heat when Harry started calling me from the lounge. He could hear his friends chatting on the console and was desperate for his headphones. I ran them in to him but they didn’t seem to work. 

Harry got more and more frustrated so I asked him to give me the console so I could get everything working for him. 

I got there in the end, well half way there. One friend could hear him but the other couldn’t.

I could still hear Ollie humming away in the dining room which is open plan with the kitchen and the conservatory in a U shape. 

I told Harry I needed to go and get on with dinner which agitated him somewhat. He’s currently on two lots of antibiotics so we’ve been on an emotional rollercoaster there. 

I walked in to the kitchen to see the pan on fire. 

I have had so much fire training dating back to the Girl Guides, maybe even the Brownies. 

I know the triangle!

I know to place a clean dish towel over the top of the pan to starve the fire of oxygen. It’s why we keep two clean towels hanging on the oven doors and even have a fire blanket under the sink in easy reach. 

But I didn’t do that, any of it. 

I panicked. Luckily I panic internally so it rarely shows. 

I just wanted to get the fire out of the house and away from our children which includes our two dogs. 

I picked the pan up off the stove and started walking to the back door knowing it was already wedged open for the dogs.

Of course the movement only fed the fire and the flames grew. 

At this point Ollie was alerted and jumped up asking if I was okay. 

I told him to shut up. No Mum of the year award here!

There is a chiffon material divide between the dining room and the conservatory I had to navigate without catching fire.  I also then realised I was wearing a flammable chiffon dress. 

As I swerved around the curtain the flames caught my hair and I heard a sizzle. I patted them out with my left hand. 

I was aware that flames were engulfing my right hand but nothing was stopping me from getting that pan to a safe distance. 

I hurled that pan from the back door to the middle of the lawn where it rests in peace as we speak. 

I apologised to Ollie, told him I was panicking but he kindly told me he knew I meant it as a warning for him to stay back and gave me a big cuddle. 

It was then all the smoke alarms came on so I ran upstairs waiving the towel to disperse the smoke. 

I then checked the downstairs toilet mirror to see a frazzled side of my hair and burned hair bobble. It’s lucky it wasn’t the 80s or I would have gone up like a fireball with all the products I used to apply. 

Harry then called me from the lounge to tell me he’d won the mission, completely oblivious. 

Ollie decided he didn’t fancy bolognaise after all and settled for pasta with black olives. I did offer bacon and cheese but I think he didn’t trust  me cooking. 

My hair is getting its second wash of the day, why does burned hair smell so bad? 

I’d like to say I’ve learned my lesson, but whilst on holiday with my friend Lou, in our early twenties and our then boyfriends the boys had left us drunkenly in charge of a chip pan. That too caught fire and we were in a log cabin and I did exactly the same thing. I still had the scar to prove it although that has now been covered with a fresh burn. 

Please people, learn from my mistakes. 

Love and hugs, kisses and wishes, Calamity Juicy xxx