I tend to stay up late on the days Bobby is at the fire station, and always have. I have a hard time falling asleep. So Saturday night I stayed up late, piddling around, doing nothing in particular. About midnight (or 11:51, to be exact) I decided to blow dry my hair and go to bed.
I plugged in the dryer, turned it on, and immediately dropped it as black smoke came pouring out, sparks shot out the back end, and the handle got extremely hot. I quickly unplugged it, and stood staring at it as black smoke filled my bedroom. I called Bobby, as Mr. Fireman would know what to do with smoking blow dryer, but he was in bed and didn't answer.
Side note:One of my pet peeves--he doesn't leave his cell phone where he can hear it at night, so if a crazy ax murderer came in to kill us, or the house caught on fire, or I was having a heart attack, or one of the girls fell out of bed and broke her leg, I couldn't reach him at the fire station after he went to bed.
And Bobby, I did not tell you this portion of the story.
I was very freaked out, and absolutely did not want this blow dryer in my house. So I took it outside (yes, at 11:53 pm) and threw it in the yard between our house and the neighbors. I figured it was nice and safe out there, not touching any wood, and it would be fine until he came home.
But then I was laying in bed watching the lightning outside my window, and I began to freak out about lightning hitting the blow dryer and it catching the grass on fire. So I went back outside at 12:05, brought the blow dryer inside, and put it in the kitchen sink. There it stayed, and I had a peaceful night sleep, waking every hour to check on it in case it caught fire in the kitchen sink.
There is my Ode to a Blow Dryer, along with everyone in the world knowing of my fear of catching our house on fire and what a freak I am. Enjoy!