Joke Alarm?

          Let me tell you about that shrill whistle you hear. It’s my smoke alarm, and it goes off literally ANYTIME I cook.  Mind you, it’s not my cooking—well not every time-- although I imagine my neighbors wonder about that.

          Here’s the real story. It turns out you need a vent through the wall, to the outside of your home. In my case, I have a microwave oven above my stove, and was told it had a vent that would pull the stove’s steam up and away.

          This is an absolute lie. Sorry, but St. Bob recently gave a “presentation” as he called it, to a houseguest. He held a paper napkin under the microwave, where it appeared to be getting drawn towards the microwave.

          Then he held it above the microwave, and whaddayaknow—it fluttered, showing that the steam was coming right back out of the top!

          So we’ve been duped. Turns out boop-boopy doop is really spelled dupe. 

          To remedy our predicament and save our hearing, we must now hire a handyman to install an exterior vent.  At which point our neighbors will probably assume that I finally took cooking lessons.

          Did you know I have hundreds of Youtube Mom life hacks online? Who knows—maybe this microwave conspiracy will become one of them!

The Day I Tried to Clean the Oven

           Since we’re all wilting in this blistering heat (triple digits all week), I decided to organize and clean. Inside. Where it’s cool. I clipped my hair up and organized the pots and pans. I organized the silverware, knives, and spatulas.  Then I decided to clean the oven.  Why not? It’s definitely not a day when I’m going to bake something, right?

I was already sweaty, but not to be deterred. First I sprayed oven cleaner throughout the oven. Then I remembered we have a self-cleaning oven.

So I used a million billion paper towels, and wiped off all the oven cleaner. Next I started the oven, which immediately locked and chose its own time of 3 ½ hours. 

Soon the house was filled with fog or smoke or smog-- take your pick-- and the smoke alarms went off.  Shrill beeping all the neighbors can hear.

 

I opened the front and back doors, so now it’s not only smoky, but HOT.  What a crazy day to choose for oven cleaning! Now I’m even more sweaty.

St. Bob sees my frustration and kisses me on the back of the neck. “Aaugh!” I say, “Don’t kiss my sweaty neck—it’s gross!”

But I am too late. He doesn’t say anything, but the poor man’s lips have to be covered with salty sweat. Now I’m even more upset.

  THIS is why people eat too much ice cream.  There. Like how I did that?

You can stay inside without opening any doors if you busy yourself watching my Youtube Mom videos.