by Marsha Sigman

Created on: July 15, 2008   Last Updated: April 18, 2010

I awoke to my husband screaming my name. When I opened my eyes all I could see were flames inches from my face. I screamed and immediately rolled off the bed. I flopped around on the floor for a few minutes, certain my long hair was on fire. It was not; it was the pillows that were burning merrily away and half of our bed with them. We had forgotten to blow out the candles. My husband screamed for water!

It had started out as such a wonderful evening. The kids were both sleeping over at friends; we had the house to ourselves. We lit candles all over the bedroom and shared a bottle of wine. We made love in the candlelight and passed out exhausted afterward.

I ran downstairs, stark naked. I threw open cabinet doors, frantically trying to find something, anything that would hold water. Repeating the same thing over and over to myself. "Get water, Get water."

The only thing I could find was a small butter container and I filled it with as much water as it would hold. At the time this seemed perfectly reasonable. I flew back upstairs as fast as I could run. When I came through the bedroom door the bed was still burning and flames were shooting up higher than before. My husband was trying to beat them down with a blanket but this seemed to just fan the flames. He looked at my container, which now held an inch of water that was left after being jostled up the stairs. "What the hell?"

He ran into our bathroom and I ran after him in a panic. He grabbed our wastebasket and dumped the trash into the tub. He had obviously lost his mind and was now destroying the house. Before I could start to complain, he turned the bathtub tap on and filled the wastebasket with water. It held an impressive amount and with a few trips back and forth to the bathroom he had the fire almost completely out. He slapped at the few flames left on the pillows with his hand until just smoke emerged.

"Whew! I cannot believe that happened." I said, still shaking. "Can you imagine how embarrassing it would have been to call the Fire Department and have the whole neighborhood up? Its 2:00 in the morning!"

"Hey, ummm. I think my hand is hurt." My husband said quietly.

"What? Let me look. Oh that's nothing. Shake it off. Looks like some burnt black stuff from the bed smeared on it." It was not easy to see in the dim light of the bedroom. We had not turned the lights on throughout the entire ordeal and were still standing naked by the side of the bed.

"No, really it hurts and I feel weird."

Drama queen

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