Went home from work a bit early yesterday since I was feeling sick and one of my kind bosses gave me the nudge.
Thought it was going to make for an easy, restful night to pop some fish and sweet potato fries into the oven while Daddy and the girls were at Ava’s swimming lessons.
Didn’t happen that way.
Instead, the universe chose to mess with us a little bit.
See, every once in a great while, a little sensor in our stove says, “Hey, it’s time to go into overdrive now.”
So right when the timer went off to take out the fries, that sucker locked the oven door and turned up the heat into cleaning mode, burning my delicious dinner into oblivion and smoking up the house like a 3-alarm fire.
Flipping the breaker to cut the power, then letting the oven cool until it unlocks itself is the only way to remedy this.
We’ve already paid $150 for a new sensor once. It’s happened twice since. This just ain’t cutting it with mama.
I want a new stove! And I’m pretty sure this is our forever house, so I’m going to get one — eventually.
The hangup is that I don’t want another stupid drop-in one. When it’s working as planned, it’s still not all that great. There’s a cool half and a warm half inside, which I understand is from not being perfectly leveled as it sits.
But to get a range in there that’s not a drop in, that’s going to require some countertop and cabinet replacement. And my dear husband knows how my mind works. My brain won’t stop there.
We already need new flooring that we’ve been putting off, despite cracks in the tile everywhere that sometimes have cut the children’s feet.
And that will lead to hiring someone to paint our first floor, because we’ve got a two-story spot that would require scaffolding to get at.
Unlikely to happen, especially all at once.
I suppose for awhile, we’ll be saving up. Maybe if I’m good, Santa will bring me something like this (in about 2018 or so):