"Is not fire - is only bell"

Feb 28 was Judah's birthday (well for those who remember its actually the 29th but that doesn't come around all that often). We had decided to celebrate at Chuck E Cheese's (A cross between timezone and pizza hut - always a hit with kids) with some of his friends from pre-school. We had to get away by 9.30am and while we didn't think that would be too much of a challenge, we realised that unexpected things can always pop up, so we made good preparations the night before. We had left baking the cake until the morning because Ange wanted to make a giant chocolate chip cookie for the cake and well fresh is best, but everything else was prepared and we went to bed. After a skype call to family first thing in the morning we decided it was high time to make the cookie cake, and that's where things began to go wrong...

You see, the recipe called for two cups of cookie dough, but wanting to make sure it was a winner we had bought pre-made dough in a plastic tub. A brief argument ensued as to what proportion of this tub represented two cups. I won't say who argued which position because it simply isn't important. We together decided to just dump the whole tub onto a flat baking tray and put it in the oven. What could be simpler...?

Several minutes later things were going really well. The lump of dough had spread into a nice flat and perfectly round cookie exactly as big as the (flat) tray (with no sides)...but there were still several minutes to go - it clearly wasn't yet cooked. It kept spreading. And then smoke started pouring out of the oven, because as it spread it dripped over the sides of the (flat) tray (with no sides) and down onto the base of the oven where it began to burn. Very soon the kitchen was full of smoke. The next thing to happen should not have been unexpected, but smoke alarms are designed to be shocking and this was no exception. I swished smoke vainly and visited each of the smoke alarms in turn to see if I could remove a battery or rip them off the wall or something. No luck. This is college housing and this was a college installed system and I think somebody had already thought of that. Ah - that's it. Call the college switch. I dialled the number and patiently tried to explain. "I'm really sorry, we were doing some cooking and the smoke alarms have gone off. There is no fire, but I can't turn the alarms off...(all the while I could hear Basil Fawlty in the back of my mind "Is not fire, is only bell!"). "I'll send the officer" came the curt reply. I was about to explain that we didn't want to cause any trouble and if she could only give me the clue as to how to turn the blasted things off the officer need not come - but she had hung up. Well the officer arrived (very quickly) and we patiently explained what I'd told the girl on the phone. "I'm going to have to get you to evacuate the building" he said calmly. "What?!" I said. (Now I could See Basil Fawlty in my mind's eye as well as hear him. It was all I could do to stop myself from saying "NO. Is not fire. Is only bell!") "I'm really sorry about this" the officer explained "but once those alarms go off there's nothing we can do. The fire department will be here soon and technically they own this building until they reset the alarms. Please leave the house now." I'm pretty sure he doesn't have kids. We were all in our pyjamas and it was -8 C outside. Did he want us to just go and stand in the snow on the front "lawn"? What planet was this guy on? We got into our coats and boots. I'd hate to think what would have happened had it actually been urgent. I went and started the car and turned the heater on. We evacuated the kids there. By that time the fire department had come and some very important men in very important uniforms were bustling about. Even as I picked up Jordan and took him to the car one of them brushed by me. As he did he said in a very important voice into a very important device "Confirm - cooking smoke - over." Um duh. Actually he was very nice and when they were leaving he turned and said to me. "Where are you from?" (Come on Mick bring out Croc Dundee 4 - these people are forgetting our accent!). "Australia" I answered. He brightened. "Well when I get off my shift, I'll have to go and put the wobbly boot on" he quipped with a knowing wink. You folks have a good day." And he was off. Americans, Australians - any help on that one? What the heck's the wobbly boot?!

So back to the story. The cake still wasn't cooked. Nobody was dressed and we had five minutes to leave. Incredibly we almost managed it. I say almost for two reasons. The first is that we took about ten. The second is that the last thing we had to do before we left was to grab the cake. Unfortunately, we were now in a hurry. Hastily Ange grabbed the precious cookie which wasn't quite ready to be ripped off the tray. It prompty disintegrated all over her and all over the floor. She had to change.

It could only happen to the Coombs'.

Judah's birthday was a hit by the way. He had a great time and so did his friends. Now for those who have been as puzzled about my Basil Fawlty allusions as I was about the wobbly boot - here's some context. Enjoy.