A Story

On Sunday evening I decided to make a batch of chocolate chip cookies.  I mixed up the dough, sampled it, had the kids sample it, sampled it again, and then popped a batch into the oven to bake.

I checked the cookies at 10 minutes and they didn't quite look done.  No brown around the edges, and they didn't do the "puff" that cookies normally do when they are baking.  I checked them two minutes later.  Still not done.  I waited two more minutes.  Still not done.  By now I'm wondering why they are not baking.  I checked to make sure I turned the oven on.  Yup, it's on.  Hmmmm, what is going on?  I took the sheet of cookies out of the oven and touched one - totally doughy.  Slightly warm, but not cooked at all.

I peeked inside the oven and noticed the element is in three pieces.  I turned the oven off.

I started thinking about what kind of new oven, or "electric range," I wanted to buy.  The old oven was given to us, free, ten years ago.  It has been slowly dying.  A burner had trouble working.  The clock doesn't work.  It doesn't self clean anymore.  I am so thankful for the ten years it has served us.  And I am looking forward to a new oven.

I called my super-chef friend and asked her some questions to get her opinion about ovens.  I made some phone calls on Monday morning and checked things out.  I looked online.  I wanted a convection oven with a coil top and was not finding it.

So, the kids and I made the hour drive to the local Sears on Monday afternoon.  My husband met me there and we found ONE oven that met ALL of my criteria! Thank you Lord!  We were standing there checking the oven out when my husband said "oh.  What IS that?!"  I looked at his hand.  It was yellow.  So was his jacket.

He looked closer.  He was holding our four-month-old son who, by the way, hadn't pooped for three days.  He had just pooped three days worth of poop.  All over himself and my husband.  And my son was pretty happy about that.

After a good chuckle, I grabbed a diaper and wipes and very carefully transported my son to the Sears bathroom.  I peeled his clothes off, wiped him down the best I could, and put a new diaper on him.  My husband, of course, decided to wash up a bit, too.  I found the extra outfit we keep in the diaper bag and clothed my happy diaper-clad child.

We then paid for the "electric range" and went home.  Enough adventure for one day.