On Monday, during dinner, our oven stopped working. It started beeping incessantly (which meant that two tired parents were immediately snippy and impatient with their suddenly needy children), displaying an error message (which was not referenced in the instructional manual), and heating way up.
Michael did keep dinner from burning. And we did finally cut the power to the oven, thus stopping the beeping. And I was grateful that with all the house hunting we have been doing in the last few months, well, at least we were still renting and financially, this was some one else's problem.
I called our landlord the next morning. He called me back with an repair window of 12 - 5 that afternoon. Well, that didn't sound like much fun, but it was a Tuesday, which is a really easy day for me to stay home. Except the repair man never showed up. I called the landlord again. I fed the girls popcorn, cheese and crackers, and fruit for dinner. Note to self: when feeding kids snacks for dinner, identify it as dinner so they don't expect something else soon.
The next morning (now Wednesday), the landlord called back, to let us know that our appointment was rescheduled for Thursday afternoon. Okay. We cooked on our griddle on Wednesday. But you can't cook pasta, our favorite lunch, on an electric griddle.
Finally Thursday morning, 20 minutes before ballet class (not our scheduled time) the repairman called to say he was on his way. What if I wasn't a stay at home mom? What if I was already at ballet? Then when would have my oven been fixed?
But that's not the point. He came. He repaired. He charged my landlord lots of money. And I have an oven and stove back. I should have spent all dinner (cooked in the oven!) being grateful. I am spending all my time after dinner being grateful. I love my electricity, and all the convenience it brings me. (And Kiddo will be so happy to have mac and cheese tomorrow!)
