Floors Burning

Another vivid memory involves my mom, diligently ironing clothes. She unplugged the hot iron and placed it behind dad's chair on the freshly waxed hardwood floor. My mischievous nature took over as I decided to emulate my mom's ironing prowess. Unfortunately, I left the iron face down, its scorching heat meeting the wooden floor. Rushing to my dad, I cried out, "Daddy, floor's burning!" He couldn't fathom my cryptic message at first, but the acrid smell of burning wood soon alerted him to the crisis at hand, leaving an indelible mark, not only on the floor but also in our family folklore.