Don't You DARE Ask Me If I'm Blonde

Last night I was talking to my dad on the phone. I lit a candle with a match and threw the match in the garbage can. I watched as, in slow motion it seemed, the match caught a paper towel on fire. The flames quickly spread to other garbage in the trash can. I, um, blew on it, but shockingly the fire did not go out. Giving no indication to my dad that I was having a minor emergency, I carried the trash can into the back yard, dragged the hose over, and doused the can in water for several seconds. Ah, problem solved. Not quite. The can was smoking suspiciously, so I peered in and spotted a small flame still going. I really doused it this time, until the water line was equal to the garbage line. Still talking to my dad this whole time. I had to wait until I hung up to finish the job. I needed two hands. I drained the water out of the can onto the grass (hope it doesn't die) and then dumped the contents into our outside can. I let the kitchen can dry out for a couple of hours, then put a garbage bag into the can. Dh will never notice. Hopefully. He basically NEVER takes the garbage out, so I think I'm safe. Tonight I'm going to go buy a new one. This one's all smoked up on the inside. Yeah, I'm retarded.