A slice of life at my house.
I still live with my parents. Unfortunately, it looks like it's going to stay that way until I get married (or die, as I firmly believe I shall meet my fate at age 34 in a bomb shelter. Which is kind of a long story). Anyway, I work for my father in our family business, which is a bakery. My dad has some very long, hard hours, especially on the weekends, so he goes to bed early and we know to keep quiet and ask that people don't call after 7:30 so he can rest.
Well, I got in around midnight from Oklahoma! rehearsal (we go out to Denny's afterwards and it's a 30 minute drive home). I was on the internet a bit talking to the director about a part I'm playing in the August children's show. I was a little thirsty, so I get up to get a drink from the kitchen. As I'm walking by the kitchen table, the light on the ceiling fan starts to flicker, buzz, pop and spark. There was an EXTREMELY loud brassy buzzing (not quite like you hear in the movies), and the lightbulb just kind of exploded into flames. Not large ones, mind you, but still FLAMES.
I screamed, because, of course, this is vaguely frightening. As I'm screaming, my mind just went, "Oh crap, I'm going to wake up dad, shut up!" The flames died down pretty quickly and my mom came running thinking I was getting raped or something equally distressful.
When she realized I was fine, she grumbled that I could have woken up my dad (which I'm surprised I didn't), and went back to bed. I turned off the lights and sheepishly went back to bed.
Yep. That's my family in a nutshell. More upset by nearly waking up my father than nearly burning the house down.
Well, I got in around midnight from Oklahoma! rehearsal (we go out to Denny's afterwards and it's a 30 minute drive home). I was on the internet a bit talking to the director about a part I'm playing in the August children's show. I was a little thirsty, so I get up to get a drink from the kitchen. As I'm walking by the kitchen table, the light on the ceiling fan starts to flicker, buzz, pop and spark. There was an EXTREMELY loud brassy buzzing (not quite like you hear in the movies), and the lightbulb just kind of exploded into flames. Not large ones, mind you, but still FLAMES.
I screamed, because, of course, this is vaguely frightening. As I'm screaming, my mind just went, "Oh crap, I'm going to wake up dad, shut up!" The flames died down pretty quickly and my mom came running thinking I was getting raped or something equally distressful.
When she realized I was fine, she grumbled that I could have woken up my dad (which I'm surprised I didn't), and went back to bed. I turned off the lights and sheepishly went back to bed.
Yep. That's my family in a nutshell. More upset by nearly waking up my father than nearly burning the house down.