Yep, my mom did that same thing in about 1957 or so.  Blew the end out of the stove and the knicknacks off the shelf in the opposite end of the kitchen.  Didn't hurt her though, which was a blessing.  She'd just been bent down in front of the old stove trying to figure out why she was smelling LP, stood up and walked away when it blew.  She probably would have been badly hurt, or worse.

As I walked out of my hair helper's shop yesterday after some damage control, she said, "well, at least now you don't look like a dork."  I think that was supposed to make me feel better.  I still have a bad comb-over.