That Time I Burned My Hair

Very recently, we had some friends over for dinner. It was casual and last minute, so we made breakfast for dinner, with pancakes, sausage, hash browns and eggs. Now I don't know about anyone else, but one of the worst smells in the world to have hanging around your home is the smell of egg. Mixed with sausage? Gross. So while the guys were off at a coffee shop discussing theological things and Josie was washing our dishes (I have good friends), I lit a candle to rid the apartment of the smell.

Unfortunately, as we were talking, I leaned a bit too far over this candle. Next thing I know, there's a bright light (flame) and I can hear the sizzling sound of my own hair on fire. I jumped back, and thankfully my shirt was low enough that my chest put out the flame. It was very startling and unexpected.

Also very funny. If you laughed, don't worry; you're in good company.

It burned all the ends of my hair since it was in a braid, so I sat there as we talked and cut the ends off, one by one. Not too much burned, although one side was a bit worse than the other, due to the nature of the braid. The ends were curled and gross. We opened windows and doors and lit another candle (but stayed far away). We also documented. Josie thought of it before I did: a picture of the burnt hair (you can't even tell in the picture) and the culprit, the ashes on the floor from when I jumped back -- yes, ashes, and finally, me cutting off the ends of my hair.

The good news is that I'm not bald, the house isn't burned to the ground, the burn on my chest isn't bad, and finally?

The house no longer smelled like eggs.

Ps - burnt hair is ever so much worse.