What NOT to do when your husband is in California… furbaby edition.

This blog could alternatively be titled “How to Piss off a Musician,”  or, “Your Gateway to Marriage Counseling – In 4 Fuzzy Paw-printed Steps!”

Thankfully, no counseling was needed. But just barely.  Because the you-know-what-almost hit the fan.

Last summer, Matt went out-of-town with his band, The Secret Post.  They were gone for about a week.  Which, while it sucked on my end, because I’m somewhat more co-dependant than I’d care to admit, a week isn’t long enough to get into too much trouble. Even bill or money wise. Right?


One morning, I get to my mom’s house, and notice that there’s a laundry basket full of blankets against the wall.  I figure that one of my sister’s friends is doing their laundry here, so I roll my eyes a bit, but think nothing of it.  For the first 30 minutes I’m over, my mom is giving me this Look.

There’s no real way to explain it other than that. You probably know what the Look is.  It’s the look everyone flashes around when there’s a secret. Sonething is going on  – perhaps something big — and you missed it.  Too often, it’s something ridiculously obvious too. And yet, you still miss it.

Me, I’m blatantly oblivious. It took many Looks, mass amounts of giggling, and then some prompting to go investigate the seemingly harmless laundry basket.

Not blankets! Kitties! Can’t see it well, but there are 4 here!



Now, I understand the giggling.

Austin had found these kittens at his house, so he’d scooped them up, and was letting the kids take care of them.   (Well, really just Treisha. Killian was at boy scout camp.  Boy, did he come home to a shock!)

So we had these fuzzballs. Who were freakishly loud… and ate every few hours.  We didn’t have kitten formula (later on that week, I got some. ) but we were mixing canned food with water, and dropper feeding it to them. Then there’s the potty business, but you don’t want to hear about that.

Their eyes were open, and they were little wigglers.  They didn’t move around much yet… that one took a few days.  The little black and white one , the biggest cat, got mobile first.   The others followed suit, and gradually started playing a bit.  They looked like drunken little cats, who weren’t used to their legs, but.  All things considered, not bad!

Except, the runt.

No, he isn’t a mouse. In fact, a mouse was probably bigger…


He didn’t eat as much, he didn’t move around as much… and he was SO much quieter than the others.   So of course, I got attached.

I started carrying him around, and making sure he was cared for (cuddled) properly.

What? He needed a place to sleep. Not like they had a bed or anything….

Eventually the black and white one, who we dubbed Houdini for his escape artist abilities. got a home.   Treisha and I , sick of calling the cats by color, decided to name them.  We were fairly confident that we could name them, and not get attached.

Mocha, who has since been renamed Marshmallow!



And, we named my the runt Chai.

Yeah. So we got attached. What of it?!


Not long after that, my friend Alisha decided to adopt the above pictured girl cats, Mocha )now Marshmallow) and Macchiato.  Meaning, that the little runt was the only one left!

Naturally, my family kept asking me when I was gong to take him home.   Usually, while I was walking around with him. (Did you know you can cook meals, and use the bathroom without disturbing a sleeping kitten? It’s true!)

I scoffed at them, explaining that we already had two cats, and I wanted a bunny…. so there was NO WAY I could take this little one.

However, come Friday, I was going to be all alone for the weekend.   As was the little kitten over at my brother’s house.

It seemed obvious. I’d take little guy home with me, and then on Monday, I’d take him back.  All the while asking around to figure out who wanted a kitten.

Easy peasy . Except that my cats DIDN’T like him.

Things were going great, for a bit.  I’d given our two cats little mice as a peace offering… so I took a video of them playing with them…  and the little guy screamed through the whole thing.

So I get this phone call from Matt. A not-as-livid-as-I-expected phone call.   I explained what was going on, and he shook his head.   (Well. I imagine he did. There was a sigh, and a few unsavory words….. you get the idea.

He’d stay with me for the weekend. Anything else, would be discussed when he got home. (God, that phrase sucked as a kid coming from parents, and it sucks coming from a husband now. Sheesh.)

Meanwhile, my cousin came over, and we went to get take out.  Naturally, without a cat carrier, I had to carry the kitten with us.  Which sparked lots of conversation. Now, a good portion of the staff at Baja Jacks would ask every time we came in, if Matt had decided if we could keep the kitty. (Muahahaha.)

Our cats? Not impressed.

“Um. What IS THAT?” Ping Pong is confused.

“No. You take it back this instant, human. I already tolerate the black and white abomination…” Monster isn’t having any of it.


But all things considered, the cats got along pretty well.  For territorial, moody creatures, anyway.


Fast forward to the night that Matt got home from California. I’m excited. Chai is a ball of cute. Matt can’t hold out against it.  I’m SURE that it’ll go well.


It doesn’t.

Not only does the cat scream and cry all night…. but he promptly steps in the bowl of wet food, spilling it over onto the floor. (And, subsequently, caused my bleached jeans nightmare. Stupid Resolve carpet cleaner. ) Matt was ready to toss the cat out the window, I’m fairly certain. It was NOT a good night. Not in the least.

Eventually, Matt said we could test it for a month. There were some heavy conditions, and if it didn’t work – it didn’t work.  Nothing would convince him to keep it if it didn’t work.

So… a month came and went, and…. well….   I think this is an occasion where pictures speak louder and clearer than any words could.


Um. Yeah. He totally hates the cat.

 And I have to share a few more, because I’m going through old pictures… and this is just ridiculous.



Blog? What blog? This is kitty picture spam time.


Cute, tiny adorable, and fairly sweet and quiet.  What an adorable little — oh!

He likes all things mint/ menthol/beeswax. He’s a gum stealer.


Did we mention how well behaved he is?

He does ride very well in the car…

…oh…… this is why we call him Chai the Fierce…

Did we mention he has a body count?



But seriously. Don’t mess with Ozzy the penguin. He’ll get you.


“I long long walks, and hand drawn bubble baths..”

The kid’s a colossal mess.  He has a security penguin, and he refuses to use a dirty litterbox. He also ate a hairtie once… and we’ll just say it didn’t go well.

He’s also a bully that beats up on the poor little black and white cat more than I care to admit. He’s also a pig, and eats everyone’s food.


But, he’s literally like a child. We don’t think he realizes he’s a cat.  And even though we’re turning into crazy cat ladies , we couldn’t imagine NOT having the little fuzzball around. 🙂

And now I’ve written WAY  more than  I thought I’d ever write about a fuzzy cat, so I’m off to go nap. (We’re snowed in today. I’ve baked scones, drank coffee, blogged — now what will I do?!)

Naptime, folks. Stay safe if you’re out in it….



The Demon that Stalked Guthrie!

This is a little past overdue – I’ve been meaning to blog about it… I just haven’t had the time.

Now, most of you who read this blog, know me personally.  Which, chances are, you’ve seen that Matt is playing in a band called The Secret Post. They aren’t my type of music, as a rule, but the songs are really growing on me.  They’re definitely talented, whether the music is quite my taste or not.

However, they tend to put on some theatrics when they perform. Primarily, in the way they dress. I could explain it, and it would certainly be a fun exercise in descriptive terms…. but in some cases, it’s just easier to show. And trust me, if I show you, it’ll make telling the rest of the story so much more fun. 🙂

First off, here is a picture of my husband normally.

See? Perfectly normal, no? We’ll call this the Clark Kent picture. Mild mannered, accountant/draftsman.

Now, here is a picture from The Secret Post’s most recent photo shoot:

Seeing the difference? Okay, now keep that in mind while I tell you this story…

Okay.  Last month, the band had a show in Guthrie, and I was lucky enough to get to go with.

I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect – it was a small town, and to top things off – they were playing the after party for a zombie walk.

Kinda cool… but then again, it had potential to be a colossal train wreck. But, I assumed it’d just make for a fun time people watching.  I remember joking with Matt that with all the zombies walking (lurching?) around, that the band might stick out for looking too normal, for once.

Famous last words. I really should have kept my mouth shut.

Saturday morning, we got up, hit the coffee shop, and headed for Guthrie.  Since no one knew what the facilities would be like, or if the band would have any place to get ready…. Matt had gotten dressed before we left town.  I guess since it was a zombie themed show, the band ditched the semi polished suits look in favor of a more punk look. Which, is more than fine by me. No complaints here! 🙂

You know… maybe I just hang out with odd people, but this doesn’t seem  that strange to me..

So, we make it to Guthrie, with Matt in his punk gear, and all his makeup done, minus the lipstick . (Which, was a new addition anyway.) And true to form, I have to pee.

Rather than wait, and roll the dice on the portapotties that are likely in use for this Zombie run, we drive through Guthrie in search of a Wal-Mart.

It’s a small town, so finding one didn’t take long.  Surprisingly, we didn’t see any zombies.  To be honest, I’m a little disappointed. But, I digress.

We run into Wal-Mart, and…

Nope. Wait.   That’s a lie.

We didn’t quite make it into the store, and we’re already getting some leery looks from people. That should have been the tipoff, right there.

I giggled a bit, and made some off-hand joke. I don’t even remember what it was at the moment. I figured that was the end of it . A few funny looks, but… it’s a Wal-Mart. Certainly weirder things have been seen here, right?

Getting further into the store,  we can’t find the bathroom.

Well, we did find it, but of course it’s being cleaned.


Off we go, walking through the store, dodging glares (and, not at all subtle ones,) and hoping that there’s a bathroom back by the electronics/lay away area.

The entire way back, we get  more than our fair share of attention. Seriously? This is cracking me up at this point.  Older people, younger people, girls, guys – it doesn’t matter. It’s like we’re aliens that crash landed in the town. I don’t get it. Matt really wasn’t THAT strangely dressed…. thank the Lord he’d left the lipstick off…. otherwise… well, it probably wouldn’t have been pretty.

As we rounded a corner, a little kid caught sight of Matt, and his eyes got huge, and he hid behind someone he was with.

Great. We’ve gone from getting weird looks, to scaring little kids!

Before the kids parents can either go off on us, or tell the kid scary stories about Matt, he waved at the kid, and got a grin out of him. Whew. Safe!

Finally, we find that there is NO bathroom in the back, so it’s back to the front.

By now, I’ve tuned out the glares, though I’m pretty sure I Facebooked about the little kid Matt scared. On the way back to the front of the store, Matt got a call from one of the guys in the band, and they talked shop for a bit.

The lady was still cleaning the restroom, so I stood around for a bit, waiting.

Now, off to the side of the bathroom, there was a group of … gentlemen — believe me when I say I’m using the word EXTREMELY LOOSELY– standing around talking.

I only caught a few bits of the conversation, but one of the guys was very loudly telling his friends that it “was  amazing what you can wear in public nowadays and not get your a** kicked for it.. ”

Thankfully, I’m not confrontational at all. Otherwise, I might have died. These were three bigger, muscled, “manly” types, all decked out in camouflage. I’m not a fan of the word redneck… I know some people happily identify as rednecks, with no negative connotation….   However. That being said – you know when people make fun of Oklahomans? Or use the word “redneck” in a derogatory sense?

Yup. That was these guys.  They looked like they’d stepped out of a movie that lived to make fun of people from Oklahoma. You couldn’t write a better token character.

I’m standing there, mouth probably hanging wide open, in utter disbelief.  Chalk it up to naivety, or whatever, but I still am having a hard time believing these guys. I would NEVER have the gall to talk so openly and loudly about someone like that! I’d at least pretend that I didn’t want them to hear…  I literally looked around the store, to see if there was anyone else they could have been talking about.

Of course, there wasn’t.

I couldn’t get in and out of that bathroom fast enough. I was half worried they’d decide to lynch him while I was gone!

Which, apparently they were talking and openly staring at him the whole time I was in there.  It’s nice to know that we’re still in high school, isn’t it?

By now, Matt’s off the phone, and I filled him in on his admirers on the way out to the car.  Again, updating Facebook about the wonderful welcome that the citizens of Guthrie were giving us.

Next stop, McDonald’s.

Because Tina is starving, and we didn’t have enough time to go to a real restaurant. And, unhealthy as it is, I can eat chicken nuggets and fries in the car pretty quick.

So we order, and pull around to the first window.

The girl does an IMMEDIATE double take, and is wide-eyed. Doesn’t say anything though, and takes our money, and gives us a receipt, no big deal.

I think by now, we were both laughing. This was getting ridiculous. Do they not have any goth or punk kids at this high school?!  It doesn’t help matters that I’m still ranting about the idiots at Wal-Mart, and seriously considering calling all my friends, and all my sisters cosplay friends, to go party at the Guthrie Wal-Mart.

We pulled up to the second window, and waited.

This kid opens the window… he’s high school age, maybe just out of high school. I couldn’t tell.

Poor thing. He was so flustered. He kept asking what we’d ordered… forgot our drink. Matt reminded him – very nicely , in fact – but it didn’t help.  He was stammering, and throwing a ‘yes sir’ in almost every other word.

I leaned over, and tried to be super smiley and nice – but he looked so flustered and uncomfortable – it wasn’t helping.  I thought he was going to throw the water bottle at us, just to get us to leave!

I about lost it. I was so tickled. This NEVER happens. I hung out with people who dressed like Hot Topic poster kids in high school, and one Billy Idol wanna be. We hardly ever got a second look from people.  And this entire town, it seemed, was flipping out over some eye makeup and nail polish!

What made it even better – was that the town had the zombie walk going on. People had to know about it – they were trying to set a Guinness World Record, I think. It’s not like the event wasn’t publicized….. so, if they were expecting zombies…. why is the punk thing so strange?

I don’t know. It blows my mind.  It makes me want to dress all sorts of crazy and venture out, just to see how people react.

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. It was freezing outside, AND in the building where the band played.  The bands (The Secret Post and Kill The Reflection) did great, the sound system wasn’t super amazing though.  And the venue was an old church, or grocery store though.

Admittedly, it was pretty amusing to watch the guys get ready, and apply makeup and nail polish. 🙂

I can’t begin to express how strange it is to stand and watch your husband apply bright purple lipstick. I just can’t. There are no words, at all for it. Surreal is a good place to start. Might I add that he did a damn good job, with a mirror and really awful lighting. I’m …. well, I’m jealous. 

He wouldn’t take my advice of putting some concealer or powder on his lips to make the purple truer. Next time….

I’m still not quite used to the punk look.

They have a show coming up on November the 17th… and I’ve heard some  bits and pieces about the wardrobe choices for that show….

It’s… going to be interesting.

I’ll definitely have to take pictures and post them here for you guys.:)

In the meantime, does anyone want to go to Guthrie and scare some poor townspeople? 😉

Would you believe I found a morning pick-me-up that works better than coffee?

Seriously. This works AMAZING. Kept me up and awake and alert for  hours. 

Though, I don’t recommend it in the least. 🙂

Yesterday morning, Matt was getting ready for work, and as usual, I headed to the kitchen to make breakfast. Nothing special, just eggs and oat bran (with splenda, cinnamon, and vanilla, yum). And of course, French press coffee. In copious amounts. 😉

Matt works out, showers, gets dressed, and meets me in the kitchen.  Over breakfast, we started talking about some coupons I found on Ebay.  Me, I’m all excited I found 20 packs of coupons for like, a dollar. Sure, some will expire before we can use them… but things like shampoo and toothpaste that aren’t perishable and really expensive, we could buy 2 or 3 at a time. Especially if we found coupons on other things we buy normally,  etc etc.  Now, while I’m rambling on about this, Matt is going on all about how that the price isn’t worth what you’d save, etc etc. Needless to say, I’m trying to get into coupons more. Matt, is not a coupon person. Which, if I told you the amount of time he spent researching Blu Ray, DVD, and other electronic/media sales…. you wouldn’t believe it for a minute… but. It’s true.

Here we are mid semi-heated coupon argument; me pretty irritated that it doesn’t seem my husband is listening to me, and him slightly amused I’m irritated… when he goes pale, and says, “Oh god.”

And by that, I mean that’s all he says. I prodded a bit, to try and figure out what he was talking about, or if this was a clever bit to end the discussion.

Finally, I turn around, follow what he’s looking at ……..

We aren’t alone. We have a little friend hanging out.

A little, yellow and black striped friend. Crawling around on our panel light in the kitchen.

omgomgomgomgomgomg!!! Dude, how long have you BEEN there????? 

I do not like flying, stinging bugs. I’m not as phobic as my Mom is… but I do not like them. Let’s face it. Growing up with a parent terrified of them… it was bound to rub off a little. :\

Matt, is allergic to wasps. I assume this means all wasps, our new yellow jacket tenant, included.

By now, it’s safe to say we’re both in panic mode — or close to.

Ok. No worries. I’ve killed lots of wasps before at Mom’s.  Granted, I usually had someone back me up with a shoe, or a second spray bottle… so. I can do this! I mean, Killian and I called ourselves the Great Wasp Hunters one week. This one little yellow jacket, (whom I will unaffectionally refer to as YJ,)  should be no match.

Ohhh wait. We don’t have any wasp spray.

I know, I know. For a household with someone allergic, we should have one.

But, we don’t. Believe it or not… this is our first wasp.  In almost 3 years. 

So… now, we’re trying to figure out what to do. I’m unfortunately no longer in Mighty Wasp Killer mode. I’m a little closer to Whiny Wife mode. Whiny Wife quickly informs Matt that he is not leaving me alone with this evil buzzing thing.  Who, by the way, is still walking in circles around our light. Stopping every once in a while to look around and see if he feels like killing anyone.

Now, we’re trying to plan. Matt decides he’ll hit him with a shoe. I’m not quite buying that’ll work… so I suggest hair spray, as well. Hoping it’ll help gum  up the guys legs/wings.  So he goes to grab a shoe, and I grab the hair spray.  The plan is, he is going to hit YJ, knock him down… and I spray him, and Matt will hit him again. Repeatedly. Until he dies.

And, we wait.

Matt wants to hit this guy from behind, so he won’t see it coming.  But he’s still ambling around in circles on the ceiling.

My husband is very analytic. So … of course, he stalks YJ for a while. Watching how he behaves, remarking that his foot may be hurt, and (I hope) plotting his demise.

At this point, I’m seriously second guessing the plan of attack. I offer to spray YJ first a few (hundred) times. I offer to get our Ant and Roach spray… Matt says he thinks the hair spray would work better, but jokes that if I want, get both.

So, I do.  Of course, they are both only aerosol cans. So aim, is virtually not an option.

More waiting.

Finally YJ gets sick of waiting for his would-be-assasins to follow through, that he does the unthinkable.

He comes off the light, and starts flying. 

I scream. Matt says something, I’m not sure what. It’s probably not child appropriate though…  We both jump. He swings the shoe. I think it hits. I start spraying both sprays at YJ, trying to keep a bead on him.  Surely it’ll do something. We cannot let this guy loose in our house. I will never sleep again. It is absolutely imperative that we kill YJ before we lose him.

And….. he’s gone. Nononono. No!! 

Both of us start looking, I’m pointing where I think he should be on the floor … because I know he at least got batted by the shoe. So, something is hurt.

Then Matt finds him.

On the near empty breakfast plate.

The near empty, ceramic, breakfast plate. Complete with mustard and hard boiled egg yolks.

I see how this is going to end before it even starts. We have YJ. Obviously, wasp hunting is not our gift… so we have to kill him while we have him…. plate or not.  So, I get the spray ready, and start praying we don’t have ceramic flying. (Which… you have to wonder. What does God think when a crazy wife sends up a prayer like “Please, please don’t let YJ sting us… or let ceramic go flying and gouge out our eyes through the air when we slam a men’s dress shoe down extremely hard on the side of the plate. Thank you, Amen.” But… think it’s a safe bet to say he’s used to randomness if he watches my house … )

Finally, Matt slams the shoe down on the plate. Multiple times. Then, with YJ stuck to his shoe, he beats the heck out of the poor yellow jacket on the floor.

Makes a REALLY loud noise, clangs the plate around on the counter, and scatters eggs and mustard all over the floor — but the plate doesn’t break!

Hurrah!  YJ is dead! There are no human casualties!!

Sadly, there are other, more alarming casualties. 😦

Coffee casualties.

Two cups of freshly brewed Hazelnut coffee. One with creamer. 😦 Both fully saturated with ant and hair spray. Still hot, too. 😦 (Not quite the end of the world… since I’m feeling pretty awake and jumpy… but still.) 

Oh, and it’s pretty much 7 o’ clock. The time Matt has to be at work.  And, my cell phone is on the counter, just inches from where it all went down.

Oops. 😦

Matt calls his dad, and fills him in on what happened, and lets him know he’ll be late;  while I examine my phone, hoping it didn’t follow YJ to wasp heaven…

Right before Matt leaves, we decide that I get celebratory wasp killer coffee! Of course, I visited Misty before I went to work, got some espresso, and filled her in on all the wasp drama. 🙂

And, we make the unanimous decision to pick up some wasp spray at the store this week.

Wonder if eBay has any wasp killer coupons….

What a day….

Oh. My. Gosh.

Did someone change Wednesday to Monday, and just forget to send me the memo?

Yesterday was absolutely insane.

First, for anyone who may not know, I stay with my Mom during the day. She had a stroke my freshman year, and is wheelchair bound. So, while my younger sister is at work, I stay with her , and help her take care of the house, and etc.

Well, yesterday, I went over there, and while making breakfast, I noticed that the igniter on one of her stove burners wasn’t working. So I called my older brother, (he’s 15 years older than me, he helped our Dad with most of the handi-work around the house growing up. I preferred to watch. Looking back, big mistake.) and told him what it was doing.

He told me it probably just needs to be cleaned. Which, is easy. I can handle that. So after we eat, I soak the stove down with some water and Comet, and then get rewarded by a lovely call from US Cellular.

Turns out, my bill is overdue. Which, is nothing new to me. Their automated machine has been calling me twice a day as of late, telling me, that it’s overdue. So this is not news to me.

What they do, finally decide to tell me is, if the bill is not paid today (or at least half) the phone will be shut off tonight.

Well gee, thanks ever so much for the advance notice, guys.

So, since I’m sure some poor, phone representative doesn’t want to hear why my bill is late because of a misunderstanding with my bank on a loan holiday, and massive budget rearranging, I simply say, “I  understand, I know the balance, and I’ll have the money to pay it when my husband gets paid Friday.”

From then on, here’s the gist of the conversation.

-“Well, can you pay the bill today, over the phone?”

“No, I won’t have the money until my husband gets paid Friday.”

“What about a partial payment? We need at least half to keep from interrupting service.”

“Sorry, I don’t have the money right now. I’ll be paying it Friday, at 5.”

“Can you just put like, 20 dollars down today?” (Which, psst, US Cell? If it would take half to keep service on, what good would a 20 dollar payment do? I mean really…logic says to not threaten me with cutting off service, if you’d do it for 20 bucks….”

No. I have ten dollars in my wallet. I can pay it Friday, at 5.”

I kid you not, that’s almost word-for-word how this call went. And it’s almost EXACTLY how it went when I called them back, to figure out exactly when service would be cut off. The only difference was that the first rep who helped me was a wonderfully nice guy, who sounded like he genuinely wanted to help. Then, I got transferred to someone who was no help at all over at Financial Services.  His speel was the same as before, only this time, this gem was included:

“Couldn’t you ask a family member or a friend to loan you the 75??”

Yeah. Because everyone I know is so wealthy and fortunate that they have an extra, spare 75 dollars floating around to loan out to me.  I wanted to reach through the phone and smack him. I should have asked HIM for the loan, come to think of it….

But anyway, after a few calls back and forth, we found a way to make it work , and are going to have half of the bill [aid today, so our service will “be uninterrupted.”

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, the stove’s been soaking in a water/Comet mixture.  Normally, we use de-greaser, but for some reason, it was AWOL today. Figures. Anyway. I started scrubbing away at the stove… which was such a mess, it soon coated the sponge I was using. I had to wash the thing out with dawn ever 5 minutes- if it lasted that long.

So… I was kinda stuck. Switched from Comet to Dawn, thinking it might cut the grease better….


Ok…. So… I’m trying to figure out what to do now, when one of the igniters starts clicking.

Which, is pretty normal when they get wet. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, even though it’s a bit unnerving. Especially when you see it spark. Even still, I kept attempting to clean to stove, while trying to ignore it.

It stopped after a while. Then, started up again. Then, sped up. Then stopped.

As if that wasn’t fun enough, the stove started making a weird rumbly noise underneath that I’d NEVER heard before. Oh goody…. then stopped. Then it “clicked” and “sparked” some more.  Sigh. By now, I’m beginning to see the appeal of the fancy smooth top stoves that can boil water in 90 seconds, and have the fun Bewitched music on the commercials.. Or is it I Dream Of Jeanie?  The Comet is kinda getting to me by now…

Then, all of a sudden — there’s more rumbling. And then —- more sparks! Only these, are ACTUAL sparks, and are up by the stove knobs, not any burners. And it’s like someone set of a cracker bomb (or crackling ball, or festival ball, pick your terminology here) went off. And it left a small electric burning smell behind.

Lovely. Oh, and did I mentioned I jumped, panicked, and threw baking soda all over it? (Which, I did have the senses to grab when the stove first started making these weird noises.) But fortunately, there was no fire, and now, the stove is covered in grease, Dawn, Comet, and Arm & Hammer.

Sigh. Really now? And what to do about the stove-fireworks? This can’t keep up….

So after a few panicked calls/texts between my sister, nephew, husband, and back to my older brother, we figure out how to take the drawer our underneath it, and just unplug the stove. My brother still thinks it’s just because it’s wet , and after its clean and dry, it’ll be fine.

So the drawer and it’s contents are sprawled over the floor, including pans we haven’t seen in years. Mom gets to work sorting through those… while I try to figure out how to get the stupid stove clean.

So now we’re back to the scrubbing problem. We couldn’t find any scour pads or steel wool…. and the degreaser I  mentioned was still very much AWOL…. so what do we do now? Hm. What about a toothbrush? Yup. That might work….

I went and grabbed the spare toothbrush I keep there (yes, seriously. I eat breakfast and lunch there, so yes, I keep a toothbrush there… ) and went to work scrubbing away. A few minutes later, Mom realized that she had an extra toothbrush as well.

So. We’re both pretty much scrubbing the heck out of the stove… each of us with little shot glasses filled with dawn soap to dip the brushes in. Mom took a few breaks, and I kept switching back and forth between Dawn and Comet. Cause neither one was really working amazingly. At one point, I had both toothbrushes, and was trying to use them both at the same time, while trying (and failing) not to trip over the pots & pans drawer behind us.

Now,  a full 2.5 hours later than we started…. I remember I’ve seen an article online about using coffee grounds to help clean things. Now, it’s an online article, and could be complete crap, but at this point, we’re pretty desperate. So, we grab the old coffee grounds from breakfast, and throw them on the stove.

And then, I had a mild coronary when they, mixed with the Dawn, did better than the Dawn or the Comet did. Why did I not realize this 2 hours ago?  I’m supposed to be semi-obsessed with coffee/espresso anyway, why would this not be a thought that occurred to me earlier?!?

Ah well. Anyway, We get the stove finished up, eat lunch, and clean the little grates that went on top of the stove. Those, were terrible to clean. But! my niece and nephew showed up, and my niece thought “it looked like fun” hahahahaha. So, she jumped in to help.

Soon, we’d added baking soda to our mix of Dawn and coffee grounds, and now it fizzed a little when you scrubbed. No idea if it helped, but by then, just thinking it did was therapeutic.

Then, Austin showed up. Who of course, plugged the stove in. The rest of us safely outside the kitchen, (me clutching the baking soda…. gun-shy, I guess) he started playing with the burners.

And of course – everything’s fine! The one burner, the igniter still isn’t working, but it’s not a big deal, our old stove used to do that too.  So, everything worked out, no one died, and no one totally lost their sanity.

Unless you count the point of the afternoon where my sister, her friend and I randomly broke into song. “Fifty Nifty United States” makes for a great stress reliever…..