I made a little mistake this evening. No need to mark the calendar. Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's mistakes are not as rare as solar eclipses. They're like buses. Another one will be along in about 20 minutes. This one ranks right up there with trying to save the ground squirrel from a cat by putting it in a tree, and stepping into the shower with my socks on, and cooking the pizza with the cardboard still under it.
Yes, it's mostly like that last one. I was boiling a big pan of water on the front burner, getting it ready to drop in some tasty ears of corn, when I spied some crumbs lingering around the stove top. Who knows what they could be from? Perhaps from some garlic toast last night to go with the tower of soup that I served for supper.
Anyway, I grabbed a paper towel to wipe up the mess, and wouldn't you know it, a corner of that select-a-size scooted under the pan, onto the red-hot burner, and exploded into flame. Good thing Mrs. Hillbilly Mom is cool in a crisis. Aside from the bloodcurdling scream that brought The Pony running to assist, the conflagration was handled in a most appropriate manner. I whisked that paper towel up over the stove, specifically the pan of water, so as not to fling flames onto the oven mitt laying on the counter, or the box of Puffs with Aloe, or the bill and letter holder overflowing with paper products. I dangled it over the boiling water, ready to plunge it into the roiling liquid. Thank the Gummi Mary, that flame flickered out in the steam, leaving a charred little section smirking at me from my own hand.
I might want to reconsider the objects on my countertop.