I climbed up off the floor and instantly smelled smoke. One look around the corner and into the kitchen told me that something wasn’t right. Smoke! I ran to the kitchen, coughing and gagging. I frantically waved my hands in front of my face, trying to breath clean air. The room is filled with smoke. The smell is like I have never smelled before. Oh, God, stay in the living room, Mackenzie!
It’s my day to pick up my four-year-old granddaughter, Mackenzie, from the daycare. My mind is filled with things I need to do when we get home. Laundry. Snack for her. Work on my papers for class. Get supper going so it’s ready on time. Sweep the floor—god that floor is dirty. First thing, give her a snack and try to get her to play alone, or let her watch a show so I can get some things done. I turn my laptop on as I head for her snack, and turn the internet on after giving it to her. “Can I watch Fresh Beat Band?”
“Yep, which one?” I find what she wants, and go to sit in front of the laptop. I’m working on the second prompt for this week. I read what I have so far and make a few changes. A look at her shows me that a bomb in the house wouldn’t draw her eyes away from the tv. While she is content on the couch, I start the laundry, edit my paper some more, finish reading the newspaper from this morning, and start pulling things out for our supper. Fresh carrots are a favorite of Mackenzie’s, so I peel and cut them up and add water to the pot, knowing I need to start them early so they will have time to cook. I set the pot on the back burner of my flat top range. I must remember to start them in about ten minutes.
By now Mackenzie’s show is over, and she’s by the toy box with her dolls, puzzles, and make-up. “Gram, will you help me with my puzzle?”
“Just a minute. I have to finish my schoolwork. Then I will.”
I dart to the kitchen and turn on the burner to start the carrots cooking.
I add a little bit more to my prompt, hit save, and close the computer.
“What do you want to do?” I ask her.
“Sit down and I’ll do make-up on you.”
“Okay,” I say as I sit on the floor beside her.
As I sit there, she puts face powder and lipstick on me, and I do the same for her. After about ten minutes, I tell her, “Grammie has to get up now. Her legs hurt.”
I climbed up off the floor and instantly smelled smoke. One look around the corner and into the kitchen told me that something wasn’t right. Smoke! I ran to the kitchen, coughing and gagging. I frantically waved my hands in front of my face, trying to breath clean air. The room is filled with smoke. The smell is like I have never smelled before. Oh, God, stay in the living room, Mackenzie! Something’s smoking on the stove! A potholder! Why was that there? Cough, cough. I grabbed the one corner that hadn’t turned black and threw it into the sink. The water I put on it made it smoke more. A look at the stove, where the carrots were suppose to be cooking, tells me that I turned on the wrong burner in my hurrying, and the pot holder was on top of the one I had turned on. As I coughed and tried to clear my throat of the smell, I yelled to Mackenzie to stay in the living room. I ran to the back door and threw it open, letting in the cold winter air. I then opened up the front door to help circulate the air. The ceiling fans helped to move the smoke in the kitchen, the smoke that was thick and burning in my throat. I continue to cough and clear my throat while keeping Mackenzie in the living room so she isn’t exposed directly to the smoke. With the doors wide open, and fans whirling overhead, I turned up the furnace to ward off the cold, and then turned the correct burner on so the carrots will cook.