At first when the smoke starting pouring off of the stove during the cooking of the pork tenderloin, I felt anxious. Especially when the smoke detector began sounding in our vacation condo.

We began our usual anti-smoke routine of waving things frantically in front of the detectors, but due to many factors, including a dearth of dish towels, we failed. The alarm starting blaring throughout the building.

Dan quickly dialed the desk to explain. They told him there was nothing we could do but wait for the fire department. I covered Mac's ears and took the boys outside.

In no time, we heard the engine approaching. "Here they come!" I told the boys. The engine parked, and we watched the fighters descend. It was exciting. Two of them were wearing full jackets and hats, and one was wearing a tightish t-shirt under his fire suspenders. His shaggy brown hair was loose.

There's nothing else to say except THAT LAST CASUAL FIRE FIGHTER WAS RYAN SUTTER, WINNER OF THE BACHELORETTE.

I must admit I handled myself extremely well during this celebrity sighting. I did not ask for a photo, I did not gush, I did not reveal that I'd seen EVERY EPISODE of his winning season. I did gesture wildly to Dan and mouth "BACHELORETTE" until he said calmly and firmly: "Yeah. I got it."