Last night, I decided to celebrate fall and make my favorite spaghetti sauce (despite the fact that it was reasonably warm yesterday). A tasty, hearty meat sauce (no, that’s not why PETA will be pissed), that just begs to have garlic bread to scoop up whatever the pasta doesn’t hold on to. Mmm. We were about to take the kids up for bed, while our visiting friend hung out downstairs. I decided to turn on the broiler to heat it up while we did bedtime, so the garlic bread would be ready for a quick toasting as soon as we were done. Mmm.
We’re upstairs, pulling the kids out of the tub, when M and I both looked up and said “what’s burning?” It was not unlike the smell when something you previously cooked and spilled in the oven starts to burn. Yet somehow even stronger and more unpleasant. M went down to investigate, friend was already opening windows. Smoke was coming out the back side of the stovetop, near the clock and instrument panel. Not good. And the burning smell was so sharp and strong that it made you a little sick just to catch a whiff, even upstairs. Blech.
What, you ask, would cause my otherwise relatively new and perfectly functional stove to combust in such a manner? Well… um… I have a suspicion.
Remember my post a few weeks ago about our small, uninvited visitor? I haven’t seen him in a while and he hasn’t been a problem. But the one time I did catch sight of him a few weeks ago, he skittered away through the tiniest of slots… in my oven. I assumed there was a hole through which he got out. I even used the oven a few times between then and now with no issue. Um. Apparently not so much with the getting out of the oven. It’s possible I just accidentally set the mouse on fire.
In my defense, it’s possible I didn’t kill him. It’s possible he crawled in there and was dead already. Makes the story slightly less cruel, but no less disgusting.
The Sears repair guy is coming tomorrow. I said my oven was smoking. I made no mention of the mouse. Isn’t homeownership grand?
Blech, blech, blech.
But on the upside, no mouse droppings on my counter. Sorry, little dude. I didn’t mean to…