There's A First Time For Everything

There's a first time for everything. There was your first step, your first word, your first school day. My first times in particular, were pretty funny. When I first started walking, I started walking backwards instead of forwards and I started talking so late my parents thought I couldn't speak! But those are pretty boring compared to one disaster that occurred one late autumn evening...
It was a normal day for a certain two year old that wanted to explore and destruct everything when that certain two year old (hint, hint) discovered that when standing on her tippy-toes, she could reach the gas stove and ignite it. Next I decided to have a bit of fun and hit a cardboard box of cereal onto the stove. Before long, the flames started to grow and grow and reached a plastic bottle of oil and the kitchen erupted in fire. Where were my parents you might ask? Well my parents actually aren't the type to leave their children alone near a stove, but they has gone to the other room to get a camera to take pictures to me doing what every two year old does. But then again, how many two year olds do you know that blow up their kitchen?  Anyway, by the time mom and dad came rushing to the scene, my little self was crying her butt off because she has only then realized she had done something wrong. Eventually the firefighters came and took out the fire and cleared the ashes and debris and my parents gave me a lesson on how not to touch things like stoves. And so that ended up being the first time I blew up my house.
Lesson: Don't let a two year old near a stove.