It started out innocent enough. We were all lying in bed, Ethan hooked up and Derek mesmerized by his latest beer-making book (something about radical brew-making). I was on the phone with B, discussing a whole lot of nothing. Suddenly I start to smell something burning. And unless Zinni had developed an opposing thumb and was whipping up a late night snack in the frying pan, something was REALLY not right.

I started to remark about it to B, hoping that Derek would take the hint. I guess I forgot the entire semester of blatant and shameless flirtation on my part that he never quite got. To be honest, if my skirts had gotten any shorter, you could have seen my belly ring. Anyway, I am going on and on and on about something that is now smelling like a grilled cheese sandwich. B and I spent 5 minutes discussing what it might be. Derek does not blink an eye.

"I guess I'll get off the phone and see what's burning, B." I gave my best and loudest sigh, but to no avail. As I hung up the phone, Ethan filled his pants. OK, now I'm stuck with two awful jobs. My mind was racing on ways to get Derek to do BOTH (realizing that there is no way in HELL will he fold).

"OK, you have a choice. You can either change the baby or find out why it smells like the house might burn down." At least I could get out of one.

He grabbed the baby and said, "I can't smell any GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICH so I guess you should figure this one out." Busted. He totally heard me.

As he walked to the door, he turned and said, "and you might want to start with your lamp."

There it was. A "previously utilized" nursing pad, smoking as it rested on the top of the lampshade. Smelling disturbingly like a grilled cheese sandwich...