We had a potluck dinner today at our church.
I was holding this styrofoam plate (the kind that has all those compartments in it) and was helping myself to a bit of salad. Paying more attention to what my grandkids might be doing, rather than what I was doing.
This woman started yelling at me “Set your plate down on the table! Set your plate down! Set your plate on the table!” I looked at my plate. Flames were coming up from the upper right corner. Little black ashes flying everywhere.
Apparently, I’d held the plate over a lit candle in the centerpiece. Dang!
So then, this woman loudly calls down to the beginning of the food line, “Can we have a new plate here? Someone has gone and set her plate afire down here.” Nothing like calling the entire congregation’s attention to my boo boo.
Then my husband accidentally dipped his tie into the soup. Our grandkids laughed so hard at the pair of us. You can’t take us anywhere, I guess.
Have you done anything like this?
Zinnia, the fire went out when I set the plate on the table. The lady who’d yelled out for another plate then set the new plate under the one I’d half destroyed.
And the little black bits of soot went around and around for several minutes.
