A Less-Than-Graceful Moment: My Weekend With The Fire Department

Sometimes Gracefully Monday

So here’s the story:

I decided to tap into my inner Julia Child over the weekend and make Darrin dinner. Lately, my “homemade” meals have been less “homemade” and more “made at the location I call home” kind of meals {I’m looking at you, Jack’s frozen pizza…}, so I decided to step outside of my lazy-cook comfort zone and make us  meal that couldn’t be cooked in the toaster oven. I marinaded a few chicken breasts, started steaming some veggies, and began sizzling a package of Rice-A-Roni {I’m not perfect, you guys} when my apartment’s fire alarm starts screaming. Not beeping every two seconds. Just ringing one long, consistent, ear-piercing “BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE {insert an infinity symbol here}!!!” throughout every room of my apartment.

Panicking and somewhat embarrassed that I set off the fire alarm cooking one measly box of Rice-A-Roni, I raced around my apartment trying to open every window I could find. Sure, there was a complete lack of smoke coming from the stove top, but I was convinced that I had done something in my cooking endeavor that had caused the fire alarm to sound, an error that would surely solidify my place in the Domestic Housewife Hall of Shame. So I darted from room to room, opening windows and using magazines to fan each fire alarm so the “BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE {insert an infinity symbol here}!!!!” would shut off.

Nothing worked. The noise continued, and my arms were getting tired of fanning fire alarms that were out of my reach. I went to open my apartment’s front door, hoping to create more air flow, when I heard an even louder and more obnoxious fire alarm resounding outside of my little apartment. Apparently, the entire complex’s fire alarms were shouting and ringing and buzzing and beeping at an incredibly brain-rattling decibel. I ran back into my apartment, turned off my stove and oven, grabbed my purse, and followed the rest of my neighbors out of the complex and across the street, praying to the good Lord that I would never again cook a box of Rice-A-Roni again in my life.

Just as we found a place for ourselves across the street and away from the firetrucks and firemen who, in a stroke of Tetris genius, found someway to maneuver their three massive firetrucks into our complex’s tiny parking lot, Minneapolis decided to dump a whole lot of rain onto our fire alarm parade. I’m sure country singer James Taylor would have made the most of this situation by picking up his guitar and writing another famous song about fire and rain and maybe even rice. I, however, was wet, cold, and seriously regretting my decision to open all of my apartment windows.

After a half an hour of on-again-off-again rain, we were finally allowed back into our apartments and were told that our complex was suffering from the recent bout of heavy flooding in the city. Some rain water in the complex’s basement tripped the fire alarm wires, setting off the alarms and {thankfully} disproving my belief that Rice-A-Roni was a boxed-meal straight from the devil.

Dripping wet with rain water, I finally made it back into my apartment just in time for the fire alarms to start screeching again. I quickly shut my apartment windows, changed out of my wet clothes, grabbed my purse and keys, and told Darrin I’d meet him for dinner at Taco Bell until the maintenance workers fixed the fire alarm system. Treating yourself to a whole lot of cheap tacos is the perfect remedy for a stressful evening.

We’ll see if my next homemade meal isn’t accompanied by a side of craziness. Thanks for the memories, Rice-A-Roni.

So how was your weekend?? Anyone watch that USA v. Portugal World Cup heart breaker?! I’ll admit that there was some screaming at the television going on back here in Minnesota. I’m hoping “The Yanks” will pull through to the next round! We’ll see!

Thanks for stopping by! And making it to the end of this unusually long post! Three “thumbs up” emojis for YOU! 😉


  • Reply Jamie June 23, 2014 at 11:44 am

    Ohhh my god. Well, at least it wasn’t your cooking that did it! And that’s something to be happy about.

  • Reply jennifer prod June 23, 2014 at 8:38 pm

    oh gosh, you’ll be telling this story for at least another 70 years- what a memory!

  • Reply Meg June 23, 2014 at 10:59 pm

    Hate to say it, but at least now you have a good story to tell! And sometimes you just need your fill of Taco Bell! Too funny




    • Reply Grace Beekman June 25, 2014 at 2:49 pm

      Haha you’re SO right. Definitely a memory!

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