I take pride in my grilling abilities. I was a Campfire girl for goodness sake! We dug holes and cooked in the ground. I love the orange glow of perfect coals. It's just my thing.
Saturday evening, I was preparing the grill to cook Boss Hog steaks. An hour prior to the husband getting home, I started the coals. Just enough time to get them nice and ready. I built my little pyramid of briquets and sprayed a little lighter fluid on the pile, lit it and let it be. I went about my business outside, burning trash, letting the horse out in the yard to graze, etc. About 30 minutes later, I checked the progress of my coals. They were not up to par, so I decided to light them up again.
I sprayed a good bit of fluid over them and lit them up again. HOLY MOTHER OF FLAME, the fireball that erupted towards my face was nothing like I'd ever seen before.
WHAT IS THAT? Singed hair drifting down into my face?? I slap my hands to my eyebrows. Please let my eyebrows be there. Yeah, eyebrows. OH CRAP, BANGS! Slapping the top of my head begins. Yep, it was the bangs! I slowly walk over to the truck and look at the after effect. I was wondering if I was going to have to wear a cap for awhile but it wasn't too horrible.
The husband got home and we ate our yummy steaks. I finally decided to tell him the story of the massive fireball that I managed to live through. I explained it like Backdraft. You don't open that door! He couldn't believe it. Then he looked closely at my hair and said "Yep, you burned it! Your hair dresser is going to be mad at you."
I managed to fix it for church this morning so it looked like nothing happened. All's well that ends well. GRILL ON! But use caution! Trust me!