And Good Morning

I shouldn't be surprised that it happened. I should be surprised that it took this long to happen. 
My hair caught fire this morning. And, yes, the smell is as bad as people say.

I have a habit of lighting a candle when I'm cleaning the kitchen; I feel like a candle makes it more pleasant. This said candle is on the counter top, above where the pots are stored. I also have a habit of starting with unloading the dishwasher when I begin the seemingly unsurmountable task of cleaning the kitchen. I was bent at the waist, putting pots away in the lower cabinet when I heard a crackling sound.

hmmmm....
my hair is on fire. step away from the candle....
how much is on fire? 
should i run to the kitchen sink, or roll on the ground?
are flames about to engulf my entire head of hair?

I just stood there, bent, trying to discern if, and how fast, it was spreading. Then it stopped. Thankfully, it just stopped burning. I put in contacts and then used the bathroom mirror to assess the damage, and laugh.

after four years of trying to grow my hair out, am i going to have to cut it off again?
this smells horrible.
this is the excuse i needed to justify spending money this week on a hair trim.
your face and shoulder are fine. you're not burned. the house isn't on fire.

I'm not sure what it says about me, that I was first concerned with the length of my hair before I was grateful that I wasn't hurt. Probably nothing good. I could barely tell R when I called to share my abnormal morning news; I was laughing too hard - saying it aloud just sounded so ridiculous. 

The kitchen is still not clean. And now it smells like burned hair. 
This is why I cannot in good conscience call myself a housewife, homemaker, or martha.