Chad and I decided to delay Valentine's Day by two days this year. Since this Friday falls after a pay day, we decided it would be more feasible for us to celebrate on the 16th. Also, it's a heck of a lot easier to get reservations.
When I got home from work this afternoon, Chad got major bonus points by suprising me today with roses and all the fixins for a romantic dinner. He had all kinds of great things: rosemary baked chicken, roasted chicken cous cous, green beans, and garlic breadsticks. Chad got the chicken seasoned and in the oven, I got the green beans going, and then we sat down to watch an episode of Seinfield. When it was over, we went back in the kitchen to get started on the cous cous and breadsticks. I moved the green beans off of the back left burner and emptied the pot so that Chad could use it for the cous cous. He doctored up the breadsticks, turned the oven up by about 50 degrees, and put them in to bake.
As I was doing the dishes, I started to smell smoke. I turned around and saw that smoke was pouring out of the back left burner - where the green beans had been. I asked Chad to come into the kitchen to turn on the ceiling fan - thinking it might clear the room out a little bit. Suddenly the gray smoke turned to black smoke, and Chad pulled open the oven door. We were both shocked to see flames filling the oven! As is my usual response in most emergency situations, I froze, and then began to laugh uncontrollably. Luckily Chad is level-headed and always prepared in emergency situations, so he grabbed a box of baking soda (something I would have never thought of...) from the fridge and poured it into the fire.
Almost as quickly as it began, it was over. The fire was out, and we both still had our eyebrows. We tried to salvage the chicken, but there was no hope. The breadsticks - not pretty. So, me, Chad, and Emma piled into the car and headed to the Taco Bell drive-through. Chad felt so bad about the whole thing but I was secretly really happy to get some Nachos Supreme. So Valentine's Day 2007 ends with me having a full belly, an even fuller heart, and an acrid burnt chicken smell singed into my nose hairs.