My First Grease Fire...or, Doesn't It Just Warm Your Heart

So about 2 weeks ago (give or take) I decided to cook something. I don't even remember what it was. Something mexican. I started out by heating up a pan of oil, like I have many times before. I stepped into the living room because Baby J needed me, and while I was in there I thought, 'hmm, that smells funny', and resolved to check it in a moment. Then I put J down, and walked into the kitchen. As I walked to the stove there came a bunch of smoke suddenly, then poof! The pan caught fire. I stood there for a second or two while I thought through my options. I knew not to put water on a grease fire. Was it baking soda or baking powder or cornstarch that one is supposed to use? Then I thought, 'why bother with those? what am I thinking?' and grabbed the fire extinguisher and used one for the very first time. It was actually pretty cool. I didn't know how far that powder flies. It covered most of that side of the room, though I only sprayed the pan. Well, then the smell was awful, and E and baby J were both coughing and I thought, 'yeah, I'd better get out of here' and so I got the pan outside, opened a few windows, and left. I called Buck as I was leaving and told him what happend. And this is just proof that I married a man who is too good to me. He praises me for my quick thinking. Then continues to praise me every time someone mentions a fire or quick thinkging-ness...which has been quite often, for some reason. If the roles were reversed, I think we all know I'd be saying some pointed remarks about how useful that information is, etc. Instead of praising him. Gosh, I'm rotten, aren't I. Well, at least I recognize it. That's supposed to be the first step, isn't it?