I went about my business as usual, and by the time 1.30pm rolled around I found myself feeling slightly peckish. So I made my way to the kitchen, dropped two slices of bread into the toaster and then dashed off to nature's calling. Thinking I had some time before the toast popped up, I decided to make a phone call and finish some business...and eventually forgot about the toast.

So there I was, toast completely forgotten, and me having a staring competition with the wall.

Then I smelt something.

I sniffed, and sniffed again, and then a huge realisation about the weight of 1000000000000 x infinity tons fell on my head.

I rushed out of my room, and then...

GANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN.

Quickly, I barged in and found the toaster jammed. Now seriously, of all the times that it happened, it happened today?!

But that was the last of my worries.

My big worry was, "Oh crap, the house smells like smoke, THE NEW HOUSE SMELLS LIKE SMOKE, OMGEEWTHBBQ I'VE GOT TO DO SOMETHING FAST OR MUM WILL GO BONKERS!!!!!"

So in record time, and moving as fast as a superhero, I dashed around the house, yanked the front door open, slid the side door and window open as wide as possible, turned the fan on and grabbed the newspaper.

THEN came the tiring bit.

I started fanning.

I was waving the newspaper up and down, slightly annoyed that it wasn't bigger and that the pages kept tearing in my grasp, and at the same time making sure I was nowhere in the view of the outside world because I knew I would look like a madwoman chasing after some stupid little fly with torn newspaper.

Ohhhhhh possums, was I in trouble.

Then I decided, the newspaper sucked, so I grabbed a towel.

And the towel was good.

Yeah, it was good.

The only thing not good about it was that I kept hitting the back of my head with it because I would wave it too far back, and then curse myself for being an idiot.

And so, at this time, the house still smells of smoke.

The fan is still on, I've closed the doors because I'm scared someone might pop in and see something they like, and still running back and forth trying to rid the house of this ugly smell.

You know what the best bit is?

The toaster was located in my pantry.

Now, my pantry is not like the traditional pantry.

My pantry, is like a looooooonnnnggg storage room for food.

And my toaster sits on the bench.

In this long pantry, that has one small door on the other end, and no ventilation whatsoever.

It doesn't matter if I've gotten rid of all evidence that I burnt toast (hypothetically, because I haven't, and I think the house will smell like this for a few days).

The pantry is going to keep that smell for weeks!

It is the worst place to have something burn.

Aha, I am so going to go down when mum comes home.

*Yes, I am feeling slightly despaired. But for some reason, I feel like it was a hilarious situation. Especially when I sat down and thought of how I must've looked to the men outside doing the fence. Desperate times call for desperate needs people!