“Firemen are cute” is not a good incentive

While I was in NYC there was an incident in our kitchen at home.

Apparently our stove and oven decided it was done in a truly spectacular way.

My husband called me to tell me about it at a totally reasonable time in Arizona it was like Midnight in NYC and I was asleep when I answered the phone. I mumbled through the appropriate replies of alarm.

The whole even was rather spectacular. There was smoke and sparking and possibly screaming. I hope there was screaming. Had I been there, there would have been screaming. Even without being there and sleeping through the story, I can still guarantee that there was prodigious swearing.

This is not our stove or our fireman.

The next morning, I’d completely forgotten about the phone call. In fact, until he sent me a random photo of an oven from Lowes, I thought I’d dreamed the whole thing.

By the time I got home, the offending appliance had been replaced with a gorgeous new black and stainless steel one.

The new stove is hot. Something that should be implied to something named “stove” but our old was seemingly was not. This creates trouble while cooking. My Honey is our home’s primary cook, and he’s good at it, so when he burned Italian sausages during one of his first runs at the new stove, I took it as a cautionary tale.

Imagine my alarm when I was notified that I was in charge of dinner tonight. I stared at the new appliance, certain it would betray me. I expressed as much.

“Whatever,” My Honey said with a roll of his eyes. “Just be attentive.”

Oh dear.

I’ve never been “attentive” while cooking in my entire life. Go ahead and dial 911 now. This story won’t end well.

Guaranteed.