Without doubt it was calling out the fire brigade in a moment of panic. My oven was on fire and the kitchen full of smoke. My son screaming and insisting I call the fire brigade. I did and then after realised I couldn't un-call them. I tried but the call handler said they had already set off (they always have to check anyway).I remember hearing the sirens approaching and wanting the ground to swallow me. My son had run off.
They came out of the engines (yes, they sent two!) in full breathing gear and I just wanted to die.
They marched into the kitchen and opened the oven;
'I think it's the garlic bread.' I said in a very weak voice,
'That's not garlic bread,' the fireman said, inspecting the cinders, 'that's a ciabatta!'
They took it in good part and soon left but I was mortified. My son didn't come home for hours.