"WHAT DO I LOOK LIKE? IS MY HAIR OKAY??!!"
Not, "Mommy's okay" or "Don't worry." Nope. I was worried about my friggin hair. And it was not pretty. The left side of my bangs are gone, my left eyebrow is only half there, and my eyelashes could best be described as stubby. But thanks to M's quick thinking (a 9 year old was more together than I was and immediately got me ice), I only have some slight blistering on my neck. Oh, and I now know that the smell of burnt hair makes me feel like barfing.
M nursed me and told me it was okay that I cried (I very professionally burst into tears when one of the girls came down to see what happened) and told me she wished she could drive so I didn't have to drive us home.
M is AWESOME.
Today my left eyelid feels like I have a sunburn and it's almost ridiculous to put on mascara (but you know I'll keep trying), but I was really really lucky. When I told the maintenance dude what happened, he said "Oh yeah. The fan is really strong on the ovens. You shouldn't turn them on to light them."
And when I told him I felt I was "lucky" I only lost a little hair (meaning I was lucky I didn't LOSE MY FACE), he said "Oh yeah. Same thing happened to another woman in one of the frats. SHE had to wear a hat for a couple months."
Who knew cooking for a sorority could be dangerous? My worst fear was of getting caught in an estrogen-laced cat fight. Or getting burned by words.
Now I have a fear of pancakes.