A little safety tip for us all to ponder.

And some original poetry to inspire us. In this case, I'm using the word gob to refer to 1. A small mass or lump (http://www.thefreedictionary.com/gob), as in that gray blob that is one's brain. Yes, we're taking liberties with our language here, but English is astonishingly forgiving like that.

And lest we all think that I am lecturing to the masses, or my husband/children, I confess: It was my pile of dirty dishes on the burner, and I was the one who turned on the wrong unit. My dear husband's contribution to my pyrotechnics was to notice the fire, and save our lives (and home) by extinguishing said flames.