I has never been all that good in emergencies. All of my common sense goes out the window. I don’t panic, despite the fact that I absolutely don’t do the smartest things. Last month, I was downstairs taking care of the laundry. I do not care that our washer and dryer are in the gas furnace room, but that is how our apartment is set up. It doesn’t make it honestly convenient for me, but until every one of us can get a bit of extra currency, I will have to share a room with the gas furnace. Most of the time, I don’t assume about the sounds and smells down there. Every so often, I smell a whiff of oil if they have just put fuel in the tank. I caught my sixteen-year-old kid hiding down there a couple days ago, and now I am thinking too much. I smelled the smoke the second that I got into the gas furnace room. No one smokes in our house, so I notice it everywhere every one of us go. When I smelled the smoke, I thought there was something wrong with the gas furnace. I thought I should message the Heating, Ventilation, and A/C corporation first, however if I smelled smoke, it could be a fire. Maybe I should call the fire corporation to start off. I stopped and looked to see if I could detect any smoke somewhere, despite the fact that I saw nothing. A whiff of smoke hit my nose again, and I threw a measuring cup full of water in the direction of the smoke and I called 911. I no sooner said hello, despite the fact that I could hear a voice. My now sopping wet kid was cottaged behind the gas furnace with a cigarette in her hand. I apologized to the operator and told her that all was well, and I had mis-dialed. My kid didn’t get off so particularly when her father came home.