… or in my wife’s case two baby bottles and a Revere-ware pot.
My wife had decided that my chore for the weekend was to clean the van. I cannot just pick stuff up, so I ended up detailing it. If I am going to do a job, I am going to do it right.
I was about fifteen minutes into the two hours that I would spend cleaning the van when RJ decided that he needed to help me. Beth came outside with Tony to make sure that RJ did not get in my way. (I guess she really wanted her van cleaned.)
I was just finishing up when my wife heard an odd noise coming from our apartment. She opened the door and was greeted with billowing smoke. (For those of you who haven’t guessed it, the noise was the fire alarm.)
Defying all reason and logic, since all my family was already outside, I raced into the apartment to put out the fire. It was a small fire in one of our Revere-ware pots.
Apparently my wife had decided to clean her breast pump (she is a working mother) and forgot about it when she came outside to watch the boys. The water boiled off and so did most of the bottles that were in there. It is hard to believe that much smoke can come from two little bottles.
Aside from the embarrassment that this was how we met out neighbors, there was no major damage. The smell is the worst thing about it. We ended up spending last night at my in-law’s because the fumes were making me nauseous and there was no way that we were going to expose the boys to that.
Today I began the daunting task of trying to remove the smoke marks and the smell or burnt plastic from out apartment. The former was fairly easy, but the latter is proving more difficult than I had anticipated. In addition to scrubbing literally everything from top to bottom, I have gone through one can of Oust, two bottles of Fabreeze, half a bottle of Wisk (washing everything that can be thrown in the washer), one bottle of 409 and two boxes of Arm and Hammer carpet cleaner.
Once the scents from all of the cleaners die down, I will assess if any one of them succeeded in removing that noxious odor from our apartment. I cannot tell if I am used to or it is masked, but I can no longer smell anything. And my food tastes like plastic.