Don’t Even Try Pretending
Okay, show of hands: Who’s ever watched a Shuttle launch? Hm? Anyone?
Excellent.
So remember when the engines go all supernova and blast the rocket into outer space? And then remember how after the contrails are wispy white and the cheers have faded and the mission is well underway, how you’d go down to the launch pad and peer down into the cavernous cavern where all that supernova stuff took place a bit ago? And remember seeing what it looked like?
Okay, it looks just like our stove and that’s a photo of it right up there. I remember spaghetti sauce, Ravioli, bacon, cookie dough smoke (yes, smoke) that permeated the kitchen every time that burner was turned on because, though my kids definitely can muster the energy to bake cookies…they apparently can’t drum up the energy to remove the lump of the stuff so that we don’t cook it into every meal for the next week and a half.
There’s Sloppy Joe’s going on, and scrambled eggs, and no matter what I type from here on by way of home-cooked meals…nothing is going to eclipse how disgusting that looks.
So.
Don’t even try pretending yours don’t or haven’t looked just like that. And don’t even try pretending you’re still not grossed out anyway, because even I can’t fake that one.
But don’t even bother making fun of us about this, because tomorrow we’re throwing a big fat giant cocktail party (Just Because) and I’ll be buying shiny, new, pristine oven-catch-all things, so that our guests don’t discuss Our Complete Inability To Clean A Stove over the cocktails I just mentioned.
And then I’m donating the old ones to the Air & Space Museum.
I am not lieing when I say this….our oven/stove has NEVER looked like that. Ever. My husband wouldn’t be able to go to bed at night if something in our house looked like that. Me, on the other hand, could not only sleep well, but never give it another thought.
Tell you’re husband to stop pretending. We know his stove looks like this too. We all know.
Um…no. I’ve seen it. He’d have a fit if it looked like that.
Check under his mattress. That’s where he hides them. I’m just saying.
Seriously…the man is ex military and our house is run the same way! It is kind of sad, really!