To begin with, I am quite excited because my husband ran a mile with me yesterday. We were going out for dinner and had a babysitter lined up. Instead of going to South Bend, we decided to get in my 8 mile run I needed to do and then go to dinner local (have I mentioned we have AMAZING restaurants here!!!!)
He was bit again by the running bug at the Indianapolis Mini-Marathon we did last May and has been doing some walking this summer. He and Emily even ran around the block twice this past week while Kate and I were at VBS. So he wanted to see how it would feel to get in a mile. I set the pace because he was afraid he would revert to his old cross country days and take off too fast. He stayed with me until .8 of a mile when he had to lengthen his stride at little bit. We ended up finishing in about 10:30. Then he got his bike out and rode the 7 miles with me.
That excitement about running was tempered just a little bit with what happened before the run while the girls and I were picking up our babysitter. We were going to make the kids tacos for dinner. I had some frozen ground beef so I put it in the skillet with some water, turned on the stove, let Steve know and left. He checked on it a couple of times and as it was getting close to being done, thought about turning it off but didn't and headed upstairs to the bathroom with the new issue of Runner's World (it's always a good day when it arrives).
Anyway, he was wrapped up with the review of running shoes when he started to smell something. He thought it was someone grilling and went back to the reviews. A little bit later (I was probably gone for about a half hour), he notice the smell and thought, that's really bad barbeque! At which point, he remembered what was on the stove, raced out of the bathroom, down the steps in three bounds to a first floor full of putrid smoke and a skillet just about to burst into flames (unfortunately it didn't, because a new kitchen is on our list of remodel jobs).
When I got home, Steve greeted me and suggested we call out for pizza for the kids. Yeah, there was no saving the tacos. My apologies to the neighborhood.
The kids got pizza and baked brownies (which helped the smell a little bit - the Fresh Wave candles made the difference!) and Steve and I headed out for that run and then a great dinner. I ask you, what other town of 1,500 has a restaurant where you can get sushi!!!!