On many school mornings, the kids head downstairs while Paul and I finish getting dressed. They play with their toys or head to the basement to use the swing. Sometimes they get out snacks that I wouldn't have chosen, but they've never gotten into any trouble before. Today, however, Atticus came running upstairs just a minute or two after he and Norah had gone downstairs. He was in quite eager to report, "Norah made a fire on the box!" As you might imagine, I hurried down the stairs myself at that point.
Norah was standing on a chair that she'd pulled over to the microwave. The child has never shown any interest in the microwave, upper cabinets, or the packets of cold medicine stored in an upper cabinet, but somehow she'd gotten the medicine down and put it in the microwave. The microwave doesn't have a quick start option, so she had to have pushed the buttons in exactly the right order to get it started. Inside, there was a smoldering box of aluminum-wrapped cold tablets that let out quite a noxious odor.
Norah confirmed that she was the one who committed the crime and told me about a dozen times, "I'm sorry for breaking your feelings Mama. It was an accident."
...and that was why I was nearly late to work today.