This afternoon my brother and sister-in-law had new carpet installed in an upstairs room (beautiful it is, too), and Louis hired Dmitry to help move some furniture.
While the two of them went to collect a piece that had been purchased and was awaiting pick-up, Mary took me in to tell me What Happened in the Wee Hours this morning.
So there they were, peacefully and blamelessly aslumber, when all of a sudden the piercing cry of the fire alarm roused them. As they stumbled out of bed it was to find half the bedroom full of what appeared to be smoke. Mary, sensibly enough, yelled "Fire, fire!"
To which Louis responded, "NO! It's an explosion!"
Mary and I agreed this observation did not actually signify an improvement over her initial assumption.
There the two of them were, blinded by the smoke, coughing and bumbling around, with Mary asking "WHAT exploded?" only to be told "The thing! The thing exploded!"
Fair's fair, it was dark, smoky, noisy....it's not surprising that Louis's vocabulary, usually so robust, failed him at just the critical moment.
The "thing" which exploded turned out to be the fire extinguisher in their bedroom. The plastic top on it split or something, causing the pressurized contents to literally explode out of it, sending a thick powdery "smoke" over all the bedroom and into the rest of the downstairs. Mary had to launder everything in the closets, they had to vaccum the walls, wipe down all the furniture, etc.
Their spring cleaning is officially done.
Did y'all know fire extinguishers could do that? I sure didn't.