I’ll keep the details brief. I mean, it’s not like anything really HAPPENED. But it sure was enough to change the trajectory of my evening!
It’s late, it’s time for dinner. I turn on the gas oven to cook some chicken nuggets and french fries (Homemade Happy Meals, we call them). I stand at the kitchen counter fiddling on the computer until the pre-heat alarms sounds. I don’t get to the oven right away, because I am – remember? – fiddling on the computer. When I finally reach to put the food in the oven, I realize the oven is cold. Which means I’ve been injecting natural gas into my kitchen for the last 20 minutes or so. Uh-oh.
I call my husband, who just so happens to be at a business dinner with a colleague who used to be a fire marshall. His colleague says open the doors and windows, and leave the house. I’m concerned, the kids are concerned. Maybe more because of the power of suggestion than anything actual, I feel a little light-headed and sick to my stomach. We leave, eat dinner at Wendy’s, and because I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep right tonight, we stop at Target for a carbon monoxide detector.
Aside from our house now being 82 degrees and nasty because our windows were open in July in Houston, and aside from some bugs who made themselves at home while we were gone, all is well. The detector shows zero carbon monoxide in the air. And to think all I had planned tonight was some dinner and vegging-out in front of the tv!