Yesterday I put some delicious pineapple chicken on the grill, closed the lid and went inside.
Five minutes later, I walked outside to billowing smoke and flames shooting from the grill.
I yelled and wrenched the dials to off and while I’m pulling the chicken off the grill (thank goodness I left the tongs outside!) Monkey comes running outside..
Monkey: “Mom, there’s a fire.. I’ll call 9-9-1!”*
I tell him that I have it under control. It’s then THEN that I realize that I had to turn the dials on my grill ALL THE WAY off. Which means that someone turned them to HIGH. I whirl around to face the little monkey, who is holding my phone ready to dial 9-9-1.
I look him in the eyes and ask: “Monkey, did you mess with the dials on the grill?”
Monkey: “Yes, I was hungry and wanted the chicken fast”
We had a long talk about not playing with fire and leaving the grill alone.
Moral: When a Monkey gets hungry… the chicken gets burned.
* you absolutely positively cannot convince him that the number is anything other than 9-9-1.