Warning: Do NOT Put Cardboard Box In Oven...

Right. 

In my defense, there was no warning on the side of the Domino's Pizza box.

But like my dad said, "there isn't a warning on the newspaper that says 'do not place in hot oven' either, but we know not to place the newspaper in the oven, right?"

Whatever.

Here's how it all went down (in flames)...

Last night I was hungry.  Hottie husband was away with the National Guard, the boys are at camp for the week, so it was just me...all alone...and hungry.

I remembered there was left over pizza in the refrigerator. 

I turned the oven on preheat to 400 degrees.  I poured myself a Diet Dr. Pepper and I waited for the oven to heat up...

...(here is where I'm gonna pull the cancer card, for sympathy)...

...it was my first day of radiation...I was tired.  I was weak.  I started to feel ill...

...so the oven reached it's 400 degrees and I placed the pizza on the bottom rack...

...still in the box.

Then I went into the family room and sat down on the couch for just a moment....just long enough to shake some of the ickiness I was feeling...

...approximately 15 minutes later I awoke to the ear piercing sound of our fire alarm...

"Warning....fire! Beep Beep Beep 

Warning...fire! Beep Beep Beep  Warning...fire!"

I opened my eyes and all I could see was smoke...

....EVERYWHERE!

I jumped up and ran towards the kitchen...just as I turned the corner I saw the flames shooting out of the oven!!

I ran over to the oven and opened the door....flames began licking my ceiling....they were GROWING!!

I grabbed the kitchen towel and began to swat at the fire...

...(because in my head swatting at a fire would solve the problem)

As soon as the towel touched the flames, it too caught fire and I threw it to the ground...

....now the floor was on fire.

So I did what any normal, calm, grown woman would do...

....I called my mother.

Yes.  I called my mother.  NOT the fire department.  My mother.

Brrrrrring.  Brrrrrring.

Mom:  "Hello?"

Me:  "MOM!!  OMGosh!!!  MY KITCHEN IS ON FIRE!"

Mom:  "WHAT?!!!??  WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOUR KITCHEN IS ON FIRE?"

Me:  "SERIOUSLY?  YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT I MEAN?"

Mom:  "BETSY!!!  WHAT DID YOU DO?"

Me:  "MOM!!!  THAT ISN'T IMPORTANT RIGHT NOW!  MY KITCHEN IS ON FIRE!"

Mom:  "YOU HAVE TO CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT!"

Click.

So...I dialed the phone...

Brrrring.  Brrrrring.

Hottie Husband:  "Hello?"

Me:  "BABY, THE KITCHEN IS ON FIRE!"

Hottie Husband:  "WHAT?!!  YOU HAVE TO CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT!"

Click.

Mom (storming through side entrance of my home):  "OMGosh!!!  BETSY!!!!  DID YOU CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT?!?!?!?!?  WHERE ARE THEY?!?!?!?!?"

Me:  "MOM! I CAN'T CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT! THE FIRE STARTED BEACAUSE I PUT A CARDBOARD PIZZA BOX IN THE OVEN AT 400 DEGREES!!!!  HOW DO I EXPLAIN THAT?"

Mom:  "CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT NOW!!!"

Me (dialing 911): "MOM?!?!?!  WHERE ARE YOU GOING?"

Mom (running out of side entrance of my home):  "I'M GETTING OUT OF HERE BEFORE THE FIRE DEPARTMENT SHOWS UP, I DON'T WANT THEM TO KNOW I'M YOUR MOTHER, YOU PUT A CARDBOARD BOX IN A 400 DEGREE OVEN!!"

Moral of this story:

Next time order from Pizza Hut.  They have non-burnable boxes.

*As a side note, my mother really didn't leave me.  She was a real trooper...she even whipped me up fresh pasta with cream sauce afterwards...in her kitchen (because mine is unusable now)!