"Happy Birthday to Carey...there's a fire in the kitchen!"

Today was Carey's birthday. I don't think she'll mind me writing how old she is...she's as old as me. I think she had a good day: her kids loving on her all day, the entire high school at Santiago Christian Academy sang Happy Birthday to her, we went out to Chinese food with Mark and Amanda, and then we picked the kids up after school and took them to Starbucks for hot chocolate and Cinnabons. Afterward we retired back to our house where Carey got the fondue pot out and we fondued shrimp, beef and turkey along with asorted vegetables. The fondue was coming to a close and everything was going fine - nobody hadn't gotten a drop of hot oil splashed on them. Carey received quite a few phone calls during dinner with birthday congratulations. Suddenly she shouted, "Doug come here! There's a fire in the kitchen." I ran in and sure enough there was a pot of oil that was being heat up for the fondue on the range that was on fire. The fan vent above the stove was being consumed by fire and the fumes from the burning plastic instantly began burning our eyes and throats. I shouted for Carey to get the kids out of the house and instantly wished I had gotten that fire extinguisher for the kitchen that my dad had always told me to get. Carey shouted, "Baking soda!" Being clueless in the kitchen I turned the wrong way as I saw the fire growing out of the corner of my eye. Carey quickly found the baking soda and I poured what was left on the fire consumed pot on the stove. It seemed to just burn up. Vinegar! I needed some quick and fortunately there was some right there by the baking soda (a good idea for the future). I started to empty the vinegar onto the flame and it seemed to help cool down the fire on the pot but now the fan vent above the stove is comsumed by flames. Carey starts filling up whatever is near her with water and I start throwing it on the fire on the hood. Slowly but surely the fire goes out and what is left is the molten plastic mess. The kids did pretty good though Abby began to cry. She was already afraid to ever "burn down the kitchen" which we've warned the kids about so they wouldn't play with the stove. Now it was becomming a reality and she was scared. Talk about a party buster. It was over and after clearing the smoke out of the house and putting the kids in bed we started clearing, chipping, and scrubbing plastic off the range, wall and ceiling. We're very thankful it wasn't any worse. As Hannah said afterward, "Dad, when the kitchen was burning I was outside praying to God as hard as I could." So was I Hannah. Thanks Lord.