We have a cute little snowman lamp that we pull out at Christmas time. My girls love it. They love lamps. Despite all my instructions to the contrary, they turn the lamp on and off by themselves all of the time. Well, last night the bulb apparently burned out. Sometimes it gets inadvertently unscrewed, but that didn't seem to fix it. I instructed my children to leave the lamp alone. We'd get a new bulb for it later.
This morning however, I hear a cry from my three-year old. And then she runs to the top of the stairs. "Mom, I got hurt!" she said.
"How did you get hurt?" I asked while going about my morning pick-up routine.
"Fire came out of the lamp and got me!" Not something on the top ten sentences you want to hear as a parent.
I ran upstairs to the scent of something smoldering, smelling as only burnt plastic can smell. Yummy.
My daughter was fine. Nothing had caught on fire. The lamp went promptly into the garbage. Too bad. It really was a cute lamp. But, you know, one just can't keep fire-spitting lamps around the house when there are small children around. Especially children who are good at lamp provocation.