There Go My Nachos.

This was a bad day for me,...it was possibly one of the worst. It all started with baking a simple batch of nachos. I had turned my back on the oven (15 years old) for a couple of minutes to ask IM my mom how long are the nachos supposed to be in for. She said keep the oven cracked, and watch until the cheese starts to bubble. When I returned to the oven I could smell something burning. I'm like oh crap, there goes my lunch. At first I thought it would be a little black and I would have to deal, but when I opened that oven door, the flames started to lick the air outside the oven. The nachos are now blazing in a thick coat of fire all the way from the sheet pan to the ceiling of the oven. I immediately close the oven door and turn off the oven, and go and tell my mom. She told me to do what I had already done. But then she tells me to go get the fire extinguisher, but someone has moved the fire extinguisher and I am started to flip to panic mode. I go down to the basement to go look for now when my sister comes down and tells me the house is really filling with smoke so I tell my mom (now on the phone) and I ask do I call 9-1-1? She says yes. So now I'm trying to dial 9-1-1 and my mind has shut down, I am typing in 9-7-7, 9-7-1, etc. I get it after about ten seconds. The operator picks up and I spew out all of my information on where I live, what happened, who's with me, how old I am, what's my name,...everything. I open the doors (I know to contain the fire and to try to seal off any oxygen going to the fire) to let my cats have an exit if then needed one. I am in the front yard when the EMT arrives, shortly followed by two fire trucks, and two police cruisers. Then get their stuff on, which to me took ages, and marched inside and soon came out to grab an carbon dioxide chemical extinguisher for fires. They fire men soon tell my sister and I the fire is out, and they turned on a fan sucking all the blackish-grey smoke out of my house. About a half an hour after I called the 9-1-1 operator my mom arrives. She assures me that I did nothing wrong, and I have handled the situation very good. All I am thinking to myself is 'is my house going to burn down?' 'are my cats okay?' 'are all of our priceless memories going to burn away?'. I almost start to cry, but I don't. The firemen soon come out with our charred oven and tell us we are going to need a new stove (which wasn't bad because my mom kept saying we needed one). They also pull out the singed nachos I tried to make. Eventually after a time-lapse of 1 hour the fire men, police man and woman leave, and so do the EMTs. The two critical things that saved my house were two things: One being the show DC Cupcakes. For some reason I was watching that show and it was the episode where they were baking for the firemen, at the fire house, with fire men. And someone's cupcakes caught on fire in the oven, and the fire man said to close the oven door and turn off the stove. That was one key element to know, and, Two, those school assemblies with the fire men did come in handy. I did know what to do and not to freak out. I am now very thankful for all the hard working firemen and women who risk their lives for ours. When we finally entered our house, we were blasted with the scent of smoke and saw the counter tops and floor laden with a decent layer of ash. I almost burned my house down! ME! But everyone keeps telling me, even the fire men, it was one of those freak accidents that happen. Now do you understand why this was possibly one of my worst days yet?