Tuesday, February 28, 2012

And the flashbacks continue...

Time: 2009-ish
Place: Virginia

Kids: Creeping up on 2nd grade
Challenge: Anyone smell smoke? Because I don't.

I have two very sneaky, adventurous kids. That being said, it's no wonder they often find themselves in less than desirable situations. And that's less than desirable for ME. For them it's practically a party with an open bar.

I can't really recall all the details of this particular "I'm-going-to-kill-them" incident so I'll start with the good stuff....me coming down the stairs to find a light layer of what looked like flour on the dining room table, the kitchen counters and all the appliances. At first? "those little shits got into the flour". Unfortunately that wasn't the case.

I continued down the steps of the basement, where the kids had been playing, only to find they had unloaded an entire chemical fire extinguisher into the air. The dust kind, not the foam kind. So instead of having a foam party, we had basement air thickened with a cloud of fine chemical dust. And it was EVERYWHERE.

Insert rant full of expletives here ________.

Of course the kids thought this was just the greatest thing ever. What kid wouldn't want a house filled with dust? I was thinking "how long before the dust kills us all?"

Enter my texts to Megan...her Dad is a retired firefighter so she instantly became my expert.

After a few jeers and giggles via text, Megan consulted her Dad and apparently there really isn't anything in the dust that can kill us. But we "shouldn't breathe it in". A little difficult to do considering it was in every square inch of air space in the house. Oh, and it doesn't vacuum up either, just in case you have this little problem in your house. It stuck like glue to the bookshelf and all the books in it, the TV, the Wii, the carpet, and everything in that basement that took up space.
I wanted to kill the kids since I knew the dust wouldn't take care of that for me.

After several hours plowing through 3 containers of Clorox disinfecting wipes with a dish towel tied around my face, I could consider allowing others to see the disaster that had once been a decent room. Maybe we'll all have asthma.

More than 2 years later I occasionally see small clouds of dust when I pull books from the bookshelf. I still haven't replaced the fire extinguisher.
I think I'm better off taking my chances with an actual fire.

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