It's been a while since I've posted a "stupid Martin Trick" story...
So, let me preface this little tale by stating that Martin was in the kitchen making sandwiches. COLD sandwiches.
Now, we have a small kitchen. For some reason, Martin had the front burner of the stove on. Since he was making sandwiches....well, not really necessary. But, regardless....I was looking in the fridge for something, and he was leaning back, being a sarcastic little butt about something.
Did I mention he was leaning back?
Against the stove?
The stove that was ON (for some unknown reason)?
Yeah, I think you see where this is going.
Anyhow, knowing him as I do, I reached back and pushed him forward, saying something along the lines of "Martin, scoot up, you're going to set yourself on fire."
Then, he turned around.
The next words out of my mouth were "In fact....you did. You might want to put yourself out." (Said w/ respective drollness, I might add.)
He craned around to look at his back, said a few choice swear words, and went running, flaming, through our house, trying to extricate himself from the fiery shirt of death. My daughter is screaming, Martin is panicking, I'm in between laughter and minor worry, and his friend, who is visiting, is staring at the whole scene w/ eyes as wide as saucers.
Martin managed to rip off the shirt, throw it on the floor, and both men pounced on it, putting it out w/ myriads of stomps.
After we'd managed to breathe again, he looked at me, and said
"You're going to put this in your blog, aren't you?"Oh, you'd better friggen' BELIEVE it!!
You want photographic proof?