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Fontessa was quietly eating her usual meal of a half a bagel and some cream cheese when the microwave exploded. As I puttered in the library , my pasta was warming in our built-in microwave.  I heard a loud “pop,” but thought nothing of it since micro-explosions are a part of microwaving.

Anyway, when I caught the scent of  burning electronics, I dashed into the kitchen. Fontessa followed me with her eyes while continuing to eat calmly as thick black smoke poured from the microwave, polluting the kitchen. Alarmed , I debated what to do, not wanting to ignite or electrocute myself. The circuit breaker snapped as I whisked the fire extinguisher into position. The smoke stopped instantaneously. I popped open the door and retrieved my pasta (which was in pretty good shape!) and inspected the kichen thoroughly.

After all this excitement, Fontessa calmly asked me what had happened, feigning concern when I frantically related my panic. Later, whenTF came home from the gym, he explained to her what I was not able to relate. Fontessa was shocked. I had wondered if smoke filled kitchens were so commonplace in Moscow as to be mundane. However,  she related that she  thought that I had simply burned my pasta. Heh. Lotta smoke fer some pasta!

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