What's that smell???
Last Saturday I spent all day researching the itinerary for London. The following day it was my intention to spend all day researching the itinerary for Australia. My husband had other plans for me.
It was 2pm when he decided to cook something to eat before the Pittsburgh-Indianapolis football game. I was upstairs on my computer, minding my own business, searching for information about Uluru. I heard him in the kitchen as he was making quite a bit of noise slamming doors and drawers. After a couple of minutes I decided to go check up on why he's making so much noise. By the time I got to the kitchen he was already downstairs in the basement across the TV, but this god-awful stink was emanating from the kitchen and rapidly consuming the living room, and climbing upstairs. The stink was absolutely horrendous, and I had to open all the windows right away and spray the air with some perfume.
I walked downstairs, and before I got a chance to ask him what on earth he was cooking, he asks me, "Does it stink upstairs?" (as he continues to gobble his beef ravioli). I was absolutely shocked that he could even EAT in this stench. It smelled like cooked sewage pie in our kitchen. I told him the stink was unbearable and he has to go upstairs and find out the source of this smell, while _I_ have a trip to Australia to plan for.
I went back to my computer, and heard my husband move the oven across the kitchen floor. A couple of minutes later he comes upstairs and tells me, "You've got to come see this!" So I followed him to the kitchen, where he proceeded to lift the top part of the oven, where the insulation material between the stovetop and the oven is spread. And right there in the middle were the signs left by a mouse - our Labrador’s dog food kibbles arranged in a circle like Stonehenge and a comfy li'l nest for the little creature. Yup, my husband cooked dog food! It's a crying shame, too, because this was obviously a place of worship for our little visitor.
Ok, put yourselves in my husband's shoes now, what would you do? Keep in mind, this is an intelligent, smart man.
Yes, he slammed the top of the oven shut, lifted the oven and off it went into his Jeep! Then he turns to me and says, "Are you coming???" I looked at him completely astonished and asked him where he intends to take this oven. My husband declared, "The municipality dump!" I ran back to my computer and went online. After a whole day of researching London websites, I was frantically looking for the button on the Municipality dump Website that says, “Visit Us.” Took me a while to realize that this is not a tourism point of attraction and would not be referred to as a “Visit Us” type place. I finally found out that it is indeed open on Sundays until 3pm. Sydney will have to wait.
As we drove to the dump, every turn my husband took, I could hear those dog kibbles sliding back and forth. I was dying to ask him what he was thinking when he decided to just leave it all in there, instead of just removing all the insulation material with the food and throwing it into the trash, but he seemed in a pretty bad mood at this point. After 13 years of marriage I've learned when not to ask "stupid questions."
We arrived at the dump before 3pm, but sure enough it was closed on Sundays in January (damn useless municipality websites!). So he turned to me and asked, "What's plan B?" I looked puzzled and admitted failure at not coming up with Plan B before we left home. So he made an executive decision and decided to find a construction site that uses metal and throw the oven into their trash collector. After climbing up all trash collectors on five construction sites around town, he gave up and said, "Ok, plan C!" At this point I was just curious to see what he'd come up with, so I didn't volunteer any suggestions. Plan C involved donating an oven with dog food to charity! I considered asking him to drop me off, because I was too ashamed to give an oven that's uncleaned to charity, but once again I was terribly curious to see how this would turn out. Thankfully, Goodwill has standards and does not take ovens. Will miracles never cease?!
Defeated and upset, my husband sat in his Jeep trying to devise a new plan. I looked at the oven in an accusing look, looked at my husband and said, "Well you know, if we've already taken this oven for a ride around town, maybe we should take it for a ride around Australia?" [This relates to one of our favourite books that is absolutely hilarious: "Round Ireland with a Fridge."] My husband wasn't amused, though I could see him fighting a smile. So I told him - you'll think it's funny tomorrow. But unfortunately, the game that he missed on TV as a result of this detour was the game of the year with suspense to the last second.
So the oven with the dog food stayed in the Jeep overnight, as we continued to assess our mouse's entry ways. Seemed that the gas line going into our oven goes through a 5 inch diameter hole in the floor which was never sealed by the contractor. The mouse came directly from outside into that hole. At this point, since my Sunday was already shot, I started washing the kitchen floor. Then I decided it was time to paint the kitchen wall behind the oven. I had an hour to kill anyway before heading to the movies with my friends.
The following day, my husband found the loophole from the outside - underneath our bay window the contractor did not close the gap in the underside. So my husband foam sprayed the hole in the kitchen and the hole outside, but within a day the foam was all chewed up by our little friend.
The oven was finally taken to the dump on Tuesday (Monday was a federal holiday). It's been a week since I lost my oven. We've been eating outside every day. My husband can't find the right oven for the right price. Last night I dreamt that there was a brand new oven in place. I had a very rude awakening realising I can't cook eggs for breakfast.
As for the mouse - I'm afraid he's dead. Gone. As I was talking on the phone to a friend on Friday, enjoying a nice conversation, my husband walked triumphantly upstairs holding a mouse trap with a mouse hanging off it. It was a darn cute mouse! I just hope he had a good life with our dog’s food and the warm insulation in our oven.
Advice for the wise: Do not try cooking dog food at home!
It was 2pm when he decided to cook something to eat before the Pittsburgh-Indianapolis football game. I was upstairs on my computer, minding my own business, searching for information about Uluru. I heard him in the kitchen as he was making quite a bit of noise slamming doors and drawers. After a couple of minutes I decided to go check up on why he's making so much noise. By the time I got to the kitchen he was already downstairs in the basement across the TV, but this god-awful stink was emanating from the kitchen and rapidly consuming the living room, and climbing upstairs. The stink was absolutely horrendous, and I had to open all the windows right away and spray the air with some perfume.
I walked downstairs, and before I got a chance to ask him what on earth he was cooking, he asks me, "Does it stink upstairs?" (as he continues to gobble his beef ravioli). I was absolutely shocked that he could even EAT in this stench. It smelled like cooked sewage pie in our kitchen. I told him the stink was unbearable and he has to go upstairs and find out the source of this smell, while _I_ have a trip to Australia to plan for.
I went back to my computer, and heard my husband move the oven across the kitchen floor. A couple of minutes later he comes upstairs and tells me, "You've got to come see this!" So I followed him to the kitchen, where he proceeded to lift the top part of the oven, where the insulation material between the stovetop and the oven is spread. And right there in the middle were the signs left by a mouse - our Labrador’s dog food kibbles arranged in a circle like Stonehenge and a comfy li'l nest for the little creature. Yup, my husband cooked dog food! It's a crying shame, too, because this was obviously a place of worship for our little visitor.
Ok, put yourselves in my husband's shoes now, what would you do? Keep in mind, this is an intelligent, smart man.
Yes, he slammed the top of the oven shut, lifted the oven and off it went into his Jeep! Then he turns to me and says, "Are you coming???" I looked at him completely astonished and asked him where he intends to take this oven. My husband declared, "The municipality dump!" I ran back to my computer and went online. After a whole day of researching London websites, I was frantically looking for the button on the Municipality dump Website that says, “Visit Us.” Took me a while to realize that this is not a tourism point of attraction and would not be referred to as a “Visit Us” type place. I finally found out that it is indeed open on Sundays until 3pm. Sydney will have to wait.
As we drove to the dump, every turn my husband took, I could hear those dog kibbles sliding back and forth. I was dying to ask him what he was thinking when he decided to just leave it all in there, instead of just removing all the insulation material with the food and throwing it into the trash, but he seemed in a pretty bad mood at this point. After 13 years of marriage I've learned when not to ask "stupid questions."
We arrived at the dump before 3pm, but sure enough it was closed on Sundays in January (damn useless municipality websites!). So he turned to me and asked, "What's plan B?" I looked puzzled and admitted failure at not coming up with Plan B before we left home. So he made an executive decision and decided to find a construction site that uses metal and throw the oven into their trash collector. After climbing up all trash collectors on five construction sites around town, he gave up and said, "Ok, plan C!" At this point I was just curious to see what he'd come up with, so I didn't volunteer any suggestions. Plan C involved donating an oven with dog food to charity! I considered asking him to drop me off, because I was too ashamed to give an oven that's uncleaned to charity, but once again I was terribly curious to see how this would turn out. Thankfully, Goodwill has standards and does not take ovens. Will miracles never cease?!
Defeated and upset, my husband sat in his Jeep trying to devise a new plan. I looked at the oven in an accusing look, looked at my husband and said, "Well you know, if we've already taken this oven for a ride around town, maybe we should take it for a ride around Australia?" [This relates to one of our favourite books that is absolutely hilarious: "Round Ireland with a Fridge."] My husband wasn't amused, though I could see him fighting a smile. So I told him - you'll think it's funny tomorrow. But unfortunately, the game that he missed on TV as a result of this detour was the game of the year with suspense to the last second.
So the oven with the dog food stayed in the Jeep overnight, as we continued to assess our mouse's entry ways. Seemed that the gas line going into our oven goes through a 5 inch diameter hole in the floor which was never sealed by the contractor. The mouse came directly from outside into that hole. At this point, since my Sunday was already shot, I started washing the kitchen floor. Then I decided it was time to paint the kitchen wall behind the oven. I had an hour to kill anyway before heading to the movies with my friends.
The following day, my husband found the loophole from the outside - underneath our bay window the contractor did not close the gap in the underside. So my husband foam sprayed the hole in the kitchen and the hole outside, but within a day the foam was all chewed up by our little friend.
The oven was finally taken to the dump on Tuesday (Monday was a federal holiday). It's been a week since I lost my oven. We've been eating outside every day. My husband can't find the right oven for the right price. Last night I dreamt that there was a brand new oven in place. I had a very rude awakening realising I can't cook eggs for breakfast.
As for the mouse - I'm afraid he's dead. Gone. As I was talking on the phone to a friend on Friday, enjoying a nice conversation, my husband walked triumphantly upstairs holding a mouse trap with a mouse hanging off it. It was a darn cute mouse! I just hope he had a good life with our dog’s food and the warm insulation in our oven.
Advice for the wise: Do not try cooking dog food at home!
posted at
1/23/2006 08:42:00 AM
2 Comments:
SG, it's funny how my husband and I take turns at making our lives so much more exciting by doing something out of character.
By
Mybrid, at 1:49 PM, January 23, 2006
I had no idea dogfood in an oven could stink that badly. No wonder my dogs follow us around every time we have food and think even our leftovers are the best food in the world.
By
The Zombieslayer, at 1:26 AM, January 25, 2006
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