First off, shoutout to Joey Oatmeal Arnold for pushing me to start this blog. Without his suggestion, I probably wouldn’t be sharing this chaotic experience with you all. So, here you go—my first blog post about how I almost burned my house down while cooking Minute Rice.
Let me set the scene for you. It was a regular evening, and I was just trying to make something quick to eat. I’m not what you’d call a “kitchen person.” In fact, the only time I really cook is when I have no other option. But hey, Minute Rice? It’s supposed to be easy, right? You just boil water, toss in the rice, and wait a few minutes. Even I couldn’t mess that up... or so I thought.
So, I got the water boiling and added the rice, feeling pretty proud of myself. While waiting for it to cook, I started tidying up the kitchen because, you know, multitasking. That’s when things went south. I reached over the stove to grab a kitchen towel, planning to wipe down the counter, and somehow, the towel slipped out of my hand and landed directly on the gas burner.
The towel caught fire almost instantly. I froze for a split second, just staring at the flames, before my brain kicked in. In a panic, I grabbed the burning towel and, instead of doing something logical like smothering the fire, I threw it across the kitchen. Where did it land? Of all places, right in my plant pot. Now, the flames were spreading from the towel to the plant, and my kitchen was starting to smell like a bonfire gone wrong.
At this point, I was fully freaking out. I grabbed the first thing I could find—a large plastic bowl—and filled it with water as fast as I could. I dashed back to the kitchen and dumped the water over the flaming plant and towel. Luckily, it worked. The fire went out, but not before leaving a soggy, burnt mess in its wake. My plant was ruined, the towel was a goner, and the kitchen smelled like burnt fabric and wet soil.
And the rice? Somehow, through all of this, the rice kept cooking. I guess if there’s one thing I did right that night, it was not burning the rice. Small victories, I suppose.
Once the chaos died down, I took a moment to assess the damage. The plant was beyond saving, the towel was charred, and I had water all over the kitchen floor. I spent the next hour cleaning up the mess, all while trying to process how I managed to turn something as simple as cooking rice into a near disaster.
So, what’s the moral of this story? Maybe that I should stick to microwaving my meals or, at the very least, keep flammable objects far away from the stove. This whole experience was a wake-up call that the kitchen and I aren’t exactly best friends. But hey, at least I’ve got a story to tell, right?
Thanks for sticking around and reading my first blog post. Hopefully, the next one will be a bit less fiery and a bit more… normal. Next time I'll be sure to add some photos if I have another wacky story like this.Until then, take care and maybe keep an eye on your kitchen towels.
