My wonderful Mom has been visiting for the past two days, she has completely saved my schedule with babysitting my kids and being willing to run around with me from here to there. She brought a monkey bread mix for our family to make, she mixed it up yesterday before she left and we cooked it up last night. As I put it in the oven I thought, I should probably put a cookie sheet under that, then thought, nah it will be okay. Twenty minutes into cooking I start to smell something funny, Jake is calling to me from the living room wondering where all the smoke was coming from. The monkey bread was leaking onto the bottom of the oven creating a smoke screen in our house. The fire alarm started to go off (at least we know it works for sure) and we turn all the fans on, open the doors to get the smoke moving. Suddenly we hear some distressed crying coming from upstairs, it's not hysterical, it sounds seriously worried. Ella is crying, but not running down to us in the fashion she usually does when she's upset. We hear Paislee come down the stairs, and as she crawls into our view in the kitchen, she turns to Ella and says, "Come on, we'll just crawl outside and then we'll be safe." Ella then comes crawling through, sobbing, "Our house is on fire." They both crawl past Jake and I and out onto the back patio. I'm laughing so hard at them I can't think of going to get the camera, and Jake is encouraging them! They were so serious, I don't think they even noticed Jake and I just standing there watching them crawl by, they were so intent on getting outside to safety. So, in case of a fire at the Mitchell's, the fire alarms work and the kids know what to do!