Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Where There's Smoke, There's Possibly, Maybe, In Some Cases, Fire

As required by law, we have a smoke alarm in our house. I understand that smoke alarms are a good thing, and that many lives have been saved by the early detection of smoke in one's home, but I am ready to pitch our smoke alarm out the door and take our chances.

Our smoke alarm goes off at the very slightest provocation. Thankfully, nobody smokes in our house, because the smoke alarm would go berserk. ANY time the oven is turned on, the smoke alarm goes off, even when there's nothing in it. (And before you diss my housekeeping habits, it IS, in fact, a self-cleaning oven, which even I can manage to make use of regularly.Which also sends the smoke alarm into spasms.) It even went off once in the middle of the night, scaring the snot out of everyone in the house, when there was absolutely no evidence whatsoever that there was any incineration of any kind going on in the vicinity. (It scared the snot out of everyone except me, who managed to sleep entirely through the whole thing. Which is kind of scary in and of itself.)
(In my parents condo, the smoke alarm is just as touchy, and it is like that in all the units....when the woman a few doors up takes out the toaster, her little grandson claps his hands over his ears.)

Last night I was making croutons for a Caesar salad, and was somehow able to cremate, not one, but TWO batches of bread cubes, and what do you know? The smoke alarm remained distinctly silent throughout. Not a peep out of the stupid thing while there were actual flames eminating from the toaster oven. Here is a picture to show you that I am not exaggerating when I say these things were not just burnt, they were reduced to ashes. (Appealling, no?)Do you see the actual scorch marks just above the door? And yet, the smoke alarm took no notice whatsoever.

I'm hoping that the smoke alarm has saved itself for bigger, more dangerous fires, and can't be bothered with the tiny, sterile fires that I produce. Of course, I will have to test that with the big bad self-cleaner on the oven some day soon.


Big Liver Girl said...

our several smoke detectors are called "cooking detectors" and I believe have all been rendered powerless in a fit of "you're not the boss of me!". Though we've never tampered with our CO2 detector, it remained silent throughout a faulty condemned furnace that was kicking off noxious fumes to beat the band. I think we need a special inservice from the fire department (I'm sure just the calendar boys would suffice), to instill us the importance of their units... I mean smoke detectors.

Erin said...

LOVE that you took the time to take a photo. You're too funny. And it looks like you were baking little cubes of black licorice.