I feel like Chicken Little.
Here's a brief rundown of an evening/morning this week:
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Big T and sleepover guest request pizza for dinner. We have frozen pepperoni pizza for them, but they want only cheese. Pick off pepperoni and place it on the baking sheet next to the "gourmet" frozen pizza Husband and I are putting into the oven.
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Pepperoni cooks, spilling grease over the edge of the baking sheet and burning it onto the bottom of the oven. Which sets off smoke alarms throughout the house. The good news: grease-free pepperoni chips have a tasty crunch.
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Temporarily dismantle smoke alarms so we can eat dinner in peace.
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I realize that the time is ripe to clean the oven. Wipe up the baked-on grease as best I can and then set the self-cleaning cycle to begin.
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Three hours later, extreme heat from cleaning cycle unexpectedly turns on the hood fan. Startles us pretty good.
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Four hours later, decide the cleaning cycle has gone long enough and manually turn it off. Leave windows open, range fan running and smoke detectors temporarily dismantled. Reassemble everything before going to bed, and notice that the oven is sparkling clean.
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Wake up extra early the next morning and decide to take advantage by reading the paper under the bed covers. Husband is about to leave the house when I hear a popping noise, immediately followed by a darkened room.
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Catch Husband just before he leaves the house -- even though the lights went out and fixture popped, Husband didn't notice a thing. He tries the breakers and determines that the problem is actually our ceiling light fixture.
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Try the light fixture again, just for good measure.
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Problem confirmed as the fixture again pops and throws the breaker.
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Husband dismantles fixture to be sure a fire hasn't started in the ceiling (it hasn't). Flips the breaker again.
The sky is not actually falling, but we do have a bedroom chandelier on the kitchen island. I am walking on eggshells to see what the next bad luck item will be -- they do run in threes, right?
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