Not just burnt something so it all went a bit smoky, and everyone had a little cough, opened some windows and batted the smoke away, but a proper full on fire with big flames and everything. Plastic boxes were on the hob, which was on. Hahahahaha. I shouldn't laugh, really. Mum's covered in black sooty ashy stuff and is in a bit of a state now. Mainly because she tried to clean the black off the ceiling and now realises that the gleaming spotless patch now shows how dirty the rest is so she has to clean it all. Not in a state because our house nearly burnt down, of course.
I was oblivious to the whole kerfuffle. It wasn't until dad went "Oh." from the bottom of the garden at the sight of mum standing by the back door with melted plastic boxes, covered in black, and shaking, that I looked up from reading my book, sunbathing, and parroted dad's "Oh." It's even a shit book so how I didn't get distracted is beyond me. Our house now stinks of burnt stuff and black stuff is coated everywhere. My choice of vocabulary is astounding today, I know. Mum and dad started talking about insurance, which is when I realised there would be no point in me standing there any longer because I would literally just be standing there not taking anything in. My presence was no longer needed.
She hasn't had the best of days though, bless her. Burnt herself quite badly ironing this morning before tripping the electricity and enduring my screams of "MUM!!! I WAS LISTENING TO STEVEN MOFFAT BEING INTERVIEWED BY GRAHAM NORTON AND NOW I'M GOING TO MISS IT!!! WHY DO YOU HAVE TO IRON NOW??? HMMM??? YOU'VE RUINED IT!!!!!!!!" Bit excessive but I've only got 5 months left before I'm officially an adult so I might as well. Then she dropped the marmite and it smashed, thus enduring my brother's screams of "MUM!!! THAT'S A NEW JAR OF MARMITE! WE DON'T HAVE ANY MORE!!!! ARRRGGHHHHHmumblemumble." Bit excessive but he's only got 4 months before he becomes a teenager so he might as well get some practice in.
Seriously though, if mum hadn't noticed the fire then the result would have been so much worse than dirty ceilings. We don't have a smoke alarm. Well, we DO, but it's still in the plastic (ironic) in the loft. Thankfully, touch wood, this is the first time we've had a fire. The only time we had to call the fire brigade was when I was 4. I locked myself in the toilet and couldn't get out, so dad had to call the fire brigade to bash the door down to get me out. Well I wasn't having any of that, so I unlocked the door and walked out...just as the fire brigade arrived. I got a teddy called Sam out of it from the firemen though. That incident being my best, second only to sticking orange peel up my nose and being pinned down at A&E before I died. Standard.
I'm not going to post this on twitter so I wonder if anyone will actually find it? Doctor Who beckons. Happy Easter. Ciao. X