A couple of nights ago Jon had to run to the hospital for a family emergency (everything is fortunately okay) just as I had returned home from the grocery store with arms full of ingredients for that night's meal. I kissed him goodbye, told him not to worry about anything at the house, I'd have everything under control. And this is where the sitcom of our lives cuts to a sudden explosion, and next thing you know the house on fire.

We'd invited up our friend Cami for dinner, and she was minutes away from our house. Too late to cancel. But why cancel, right? I could handle it! I could handle both kids, both dogs, and an elaborate, from-scratch meal that included salmon, six different herbs, cooking wine, and every available burner on our stove. We'd made this recipe before! Or more accurately, I watched Jon cook the entire meal while I sipped the cooking wine from a safe distance.

I mentioned recently that I don't cook, and since my family reads this website every day (and then my dad calls my mom and goes DID YOU SEE WHAT SHE WROTE? and my mom is all OF COURSE, SHE LEARNED THAT FROM YOU) they all got together and gave me cooking utensils for Christmas. Because I'm not living up to my matronly duties. Do you see my husband? I mean, he's only 150 pounds away from starving to death. AND IT'S ALL MY FAULT.

Now, we have this ongoing joke with Cami. Every time she comes over for dinner we have salmon. At first it was a coincidence, we'd have salmon on the menu and then she'd mention she'd be stopping by. And then the coincidences got to be so ridiculous that we had to make salmon our official Cami Meal. I'm not sure how she feels about this incredible honor and the pressure that comes with it, only that when I mentioned we'd be having salmon she texted me back saying, "Freakin' dill sauce all over my body time!"

Mind you, Cami is a devout Mormon studying design at BYU. She routinely reads her scriptures and blesses her food. Let me share with you one of the conversations we had over text message back in July:

Cami: Hey sexy I'm leaving Provo! Can I get you anything? Patron, wine coolers, diapers, ass cream?

Me: Can you pick up some hookers! K, thx!

Cami: Oh ya duh, male or female?

Me: Both.

Cami: K done. Fireman or policeman?

Me: Someone with a moustache!

Cami: Haha! Yes and lately I've been into wizards so maybe like a lookalike Dumbledore?!

Can you see why I adore this woman despite disagreeing with the fact that she shares her boyfriend with four sister girlfriends? A LOOKALIKE DUMBLEDORE. I went around saying that under my breath for weeks.

This post has gone on long enough, and really the point I wanted to hammer home other than I COOKED THE MEAL! I COOKED THE MEAL! is that there was a point where I had the rice cooking, the sauce mixed, and the salmon fillets laid out on the cutting board, and suddenly Marlo wakes up from her last nap and I've got to put everything on hold to breastfeed her. At precisely this time Leta calls out from the bathroom, "I'm done! I'm done!" And I look up at Cami and I'm all, dude, take one for the team, go in there and tell her she did a great job. And Cami goes, sweetie, I love you and your family, but I am not going to go into that bathroom and tell your daughter that her poop is awesome.

And then Cami leans down by the stove to turn on one of the burners, the one we'd be using to simmer the salmon in a mixture of broth and wine and bay leaves, and because she's not familiar with gas stoves she flips it as high as it will go and gas just pours into the room. And it all happens so fast that I can't tell her STOP STOP DON'T STOP, and as she winds the handle back down a giant flame roars up from the stove so violently that it blows her hair back from her face.

CAMI ALMOST SET HER FACE ON FIRE.

I started laughing so hard that Marlo jerked herself off my boob and stared at me as if she were trying to figure out what could have possibly happened to make such a horrifying noise come out of my face, and through the tears in my eyes I explained, "IT SMELLS LIKE BURNT HAIR IN HERE!"

In conclusion, one night last spring Cami spent the night with us, and before going to bed she hopped into the shower to relax a bit. Moments later I got a text that said, "Ugh! I just washed my hair with dog shampoo!!!"

Today's featured community question comes from user mommasj:

And the reason I chose this one was because it perfectly coincides with the most recent Momversation I participated in where we talk about our worst parenting moments:

I got a little talky in the video I submitted (MUST BE ALL THIS TIME I SPEND WITH JON, see: the first long car drive we ever took together, after about thirty minutes I had to turn to him and go, you do realize that you haven't stopped talking since we got in the car? And he was all, you do realize that THIS is what you're getting yourself into?), so that's why they had to do so many cuts when it gets to my part. Because my video looked like this paragraph.

And one of the points I wanted to get across that didn't make it into the final edit was that while Jon and I have our moments, our at the end of the rope and ready to hang ourselves with it moments when the only thing preventing us from punching our fist through a window is the copay it would cost us to fix the wound, we aren't physical at all when it comes to disciplining our children. We don't spank or jerk or shake. We will get into Leta's face and speak very loudly when the occasion calls for it, but even then, those moments have become much less frequent as she has gotten older, and the last time I did it was WHEN SHE ATE MY LAST WAFFLE FRY.

So when I say in the video that she winced while going, "Don't harm me!" it struck me that this has got to be a built-in reflex, right? The wincing? Because we have never raised a hand to harm her in any way. Is it something residual from when we lived among lions? We'd see them and run? Did humans ever live among lions? Or was that just on Noah's Ark?

Point is, oh dear Moses yes, we have all done something to or in front of our kids and then been totally ashamed. It's called being human. And if you're exempt from this then I'd like to see your battery pack or the cord you use to plug yourself into the wall.