So I come home and the door is open.
“That’s odd,” I think as I walk inside.
There’s a dark cloud hovering around the ceiling.
The “cloud” was smoke.
Turns out somebody (either mom or Anna) figured out how to set the microwave on fire.
So, there is now a giant burn mark where the microwave used to be.
And the entire house (except my room, ’cause I had my door closed) smells like smoke.
Not even good-smelling smoke. The nasty, electrical-wiring kind. yech.
Maybe I’ll sleep with my window open tonight.