Campfire Smells and "Good" Samaratins

Saturday was a busy work day and usually is, if there is no rugby game. We had a rugby-free weekend this weekend, so Blasen was able to work on the upstairs. I, on the other hand, had the daily task of attempting to accomplish whatever chore while watching two children. I decided to make things a little easier and just use the self-cleaning feature on my ancient oven instead of cleaning by hand. Everything else on the stove/oven works, so why not this feature? Everything started out just fine. With any oven cleaning there's that burning smell that comes from whatever was baked on getting removed, right? Well, I was off tending to some other task and Blasen asks "what's burning?" I tell him I'm just cleaning the oven. I return to the kitchen to find smoke filling the room and it smelling like a campfire has been set-up in the middle of the kitchen. I think to myself..."it's not supposed to be like this." So, I turn it off and open doors, because by this point you can't breath on that side of the house. Now, new task...air out the house.
Back door open, box fan on, front door open. I tell myself I have to watch the kids extra since doors are open. Bliss comes and tells me Zade is outside getting wet. Sure enough, Zade is outside playing in water. I get him inside and change his pants. Not five minutes later the doorbell rings. Bliss runs to the door and I ask him who it is, very excitedly he replies that it's a policeman. At this point, I notice Bliss has not put his pants or underwear back on from his recent trip to the bathroom. I answer the door and the policeman informs me that he received a call saying that Zade was in the middle of the intersection playing. I told the officer that I had found him outside, that my husband was going back and forth, but that I seriously doubted he was in the INTERSECTION....a whole house away. He basically told me I was wrong and made me feel like a horrible mother. Obviously, some "good samaratin" was driving by the house and saw Zade outside, but didn't see Blasen, was worried that Zade would get in the street, and called the police. Now, I figure if this "good samaratin" was so concerned about Zade's welfare, they would have stopped and found where Zade belonged and not just driven by leaving a 2 year old in the "intersection." I didn't know what to say to the officer and he just stood there staring at me. Blasen thanked him for his time and sent him on his way.
Now, I have a horrible campfire smell permeating my house and I'm a negligent mother, but I still have to make a birthday cake and figure-out how to get rid of the smell before tomorrow when 10 people are showing up to my house.

P.S.
I think the burning came from pecans that were placed up in the inner working of the oven by our former resident Mr. Mouse, who now resides in mouse heaven. I'm sure they were on fire...not the oven.