Last week, in a turn of unfortunate events, Brad Pitt and I found ourselves starving at dinner time. By no means was this due to lack of planning on my part. Oh, the contrary! I was actually steps ahead of my usual dinner game and had preheated and shoved potatoes into the oven to ensure they would be nicely baked in time to eat at a respectable hour.
I spent the next fifteen minutes fidgeting around with my century old stove knobs, thinking the magical “turn off – turn” on trick would change things. It did not. And then I saw it. The gaping crack in the heating element at the bottom of the stove. Shit was bah-roken. And dinner was miles away from being ready. Fuuuuuuuck. Dinner sucked pretty bad that night.
Fast forward to yesterday, when Amazon delivered my new baking element. I watched a YouTube video on how to make the repair and was quite confident in my ability to complete the task. But, I was slightly concerned about the “what if” … what if I somehow electrocuted myself? I was home alone and its not like the dogs were going to call 911 in such an emergency.
At least my Seeester was paying attention. (Although, it did take her quite awhile to respond.)
And my Mom? Well, lets just say she wasn’t winning any awards in “Being Available To Ensure Your Offspring Avoids Electrocution.” She made up for it later (a good ten minutes later) when she expressed some concern for my well-being and also thought to ask if I had at least unplugged the stove before handling the wires:
I think when she said “Katie?” she was actually a little worried. That is good. Maybe I am her favorite child.
Anyway ….Twenty (???) minutes later, I had successfully removed the oven door, unbolted the broken element, pulled it from the wires, replaced it with the new element, secured the door back on the front of the stove and voila: A working oven! I’m a freaking home repair wonder! I see a future in electrical work. Or, appliance repair! I’m totally in my element.