Our stove died on us today. Let us all have a moment of silent meditation for it's cheaply built soul.
Actually the oven element snapped. I love how cheap they're making the damn things. Used to be they plugged into a socket in the back, and if it went bad, you just yanked it out and replaced it with a new one. Now they're bolted in and you have to get a whole new stove.
Luckily, we kept Mr. G's mom's stove when she sold her house two years ago. We kept it covered in the shed, so I was a little worried that it might not work. And that I might be bringing a family of mice into the house along with the stove.
I was able to get the old stove out of the kitchen myself, but I couldn't get the newer stove to budge out of the shed so I had to wait until Mr. G came home. He took one look at the stove on the back porch and said, "You REALLY need to get back to work if you're THIS bored."
I said, "Honey, I'm not THAT desperate for something to do!" Although, I was actually considering cleaning out the kitchen cupboards. How sad is that?! "The oven element broke and I need you to help me get your mother's stove into the kitchen."
Thankfully, it fit through the doorways with no problem.
As I was washing up the newer stove, I saw something moving out of the corner of my eye and there was a mouse in the kitchen. I'm yelling, "MOUSE! MOUSE!!" and my husband is outside paying no attention. So I grabbed this big male cat who has been hanging around the house and threw it into the corner with the mouse. I'm thinking it could stand to EARN some of that food he's been sucking down like there's no tomorrow. Well, the mouse stands up on his back legs and the damn cat bolts out of the kitchen and runs to the back door, crying and belly aching frantically to get out. Clearly he's never earned his supper.
I'm yelling, "You lousy, good for nothing BABY!" Hell, I could have caught the damn thing myself...if he hadn't reared up on his hind legs and scared me...
Yeah, I was afraid, but I have an excuse that the cat doesn't: I don't have balls!!
Later, I said to Mr. G, "That cat should have gone after that mouse pronto. After all, he still has his balls."
Mr. G: "What does that have to do with anything?"
Me: "Well, wouldn't his hunting instincts be sharp if he isn't fixed?"
Mr. G: "Yeah, if he's hunting for pussies in heat."