My kids try so VERY hard. They want to succeed. They want to be happy. They want to make ME happy. I am a tough mom and will be the first to admit that. But I am proud of my kids and all they do. Ben was in a tight spot. He did his best. Kudos to my son.
I put the chicken in the oven. I roast a delicious chicken, truly I do. We all look forward to it. And as would be expected, the house quickly became yummified with the smell of roasting poultry. It made us all hungry in anticipation. I had about 3 hours or so. (it was a BIIIIIG bird) and I went about my business. Around 5:30p, I went in the kitchen to check on our fabulous fowl and get started on the fixins.
I stopped dead and if there was theme music in my life it would have played the "Bah-bah-BAHHHHHHH" (shocking moment theme) as I stared blankly at the oven: completely off and cool with one raw bird inside. I didn't even realize until it was too late that the house didn't smell yummy anymore.
I frantically began to retrace my steps: had I even turned it on?! HOW could this happen? Considering the day I'd had it was crap icing on top of a poopy cake. Birdie had tinkled on the carpet and while I was scolding her, she took a dump. Since Winston was not to be outdone. He lifted his chubby lil leg on my chair right in front of me. "Here Ma...Watch THIS!!!!" The kids were the worst of enemies: "Don't touch! That's MINE I'm TELLLLLLLIN"...AUGH! All I wanted was a Bailey's and bed. But I was determined to have a nice dinner, cook some awesome stuff and end the night on a good note.
I smacked the counter with my oven mitt, muttering "FIRETRUCK!!!" and a heavy disappointed sigh.
My son appeared at my side and rubbed my arm.
"What's wrong? Mommy." he sighed too and stared at the oven door.
"What's wrong is that the oven is off and we have no dinner. Crap! I just don't get it Boo, how did this happen? I KNOW I turned it on." I shook my head. I was on the brink of tears. There was a pout in my tone.
He pulled away a little. "Uhhhh Mommy?"
I hugged him and rubbed his head. "Yeah, Bud?"
"I love you but I did it." The statement flew from his little mouth at an almost incomprehensible rate. I could have sworn he "juked" and gasped waiting for me to swat his fanny.
"WHAT? What did you say?" I squinted, trying to grasp what he'd just uttered.
"I love you?" he had his best smile on. Nice try.
"Nooooooo. after that."
"oh yeah, I did it."
"WHY?" The words came from me as if he'd tried to eat one of the dogs.
"It was an accident!" Panic filled his little face. " I locked the oven and I didn't know that when you flipped that switch it made all the stuff on the screen go away!" the pitch rose an octave.
"Okay but why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want to get in trouble." he toed the tile in my kitchen.
I closed my eyes and let it sink in. He was afraid. I sighed and softened. It was NO BIG DEAL! (Yes it was. I wanted chicken. But truly? No, it wasn't.....yes it was.)
"But when it all went away, why didn't you just set it back again?"
"Because you always tell me not to play with the stove!"
WHAM! Lesson learned! They DO hear you!
"But Boo Honey, what were you doing flipping the switch?"
"Locking it."
"Why?"
"To make it safe."
WHAM! THEY DO HEAR YOU!
I sucked in my lips and tasted defeat (it tastes like chicken by the way). He was right. I could only laugh. We had a discussion about kitchen safety and appropriate appliance utilization.
Then we had a discussion about which take-out to order.
