You know, I have typed and hit erase about ten times trying to tell a story about cooking something in the oven. The story isn't really the point- mostly, I just need to convey the fact that the oven smoked from the burnt food at the bottom of it.
The smoke alarm went off.
Husband attacked the alarms with brooms to get them to stop.
They beeped louder.
He pulled the fully house-wired smoke alarms off their plates. That really hacked those round beasts off. The whole house started vibrating with the pelts of the alarm.
Bennie kept right on sleeping.
LMC ran around screaming with her hands on her ears.
I looked at the chaos and realized that I was the sole reason for this moment, because I do not know how to clean an oven.
LMC jumped up and down in frustration with her hands over her ears, screaming, "MAMA! It's toooooo Lao-UD." In the south, 'loud' is two syllables.
The phone finally rang. It was the alarm company. I answered with, "Hi Security Cen. This is why people should learn how to clean ovens." Dispatch laughed, asked for our password and wished us luck. Hanging up the phone, I looked at Husband on a chair, holding two beeping discs, with LMC at his feet, jumping up and down.
Bennie kept sleeping.
Just as the alarm quelled, I heard the heavy engine and sirens turn onto our street.
Running outside to tell the fire men that nothing is wrong is not the right move. Running makes them think that something is really wrong. Fortunate for us, the alarm company was able to call off the other two trucks. The fire department always sends one truck, just to be safe. In they walk, fully geared, ready to combat the smoke filled dirty oven.
LMC saw them and cried.
After a quick discussion about fire men are just guys in fun suits and to never, ever hide during a fire- we give them high-fives and a sincere thank-you for keeping us safe. I close the door and start to wonder what the neighbors think of the new guys on the street. They must love us.
At least we make it interesting.
I digress. Yesterday, I was at Publix trying to figure out what I need to clean the oven. There were all kinds of cleaning supplies for all kinds of things. Appliance cleaner, stainless steel appliance cleaner, glass top stove cleaner, ceramic top stove cleaner, barkeeper's friend, on and on... where was the caustic oven cleaner that I remember Nanny using with the big gloves from when I was a kid? No luck. Kids must have learned how to make meth out of it or sniff it or whatever dumb thing is cool now.
Not to be undone, I whip out my "smarter than me" phone to google "how to clean an oven."
No lie-- there are directions for cleaning a self cleaning oven. They involve six steps, none of which mention that if you need directions to clean a self-cleaning oven, there are bigger problems in your life.
But, let's be perfectly honest- I did not know what kind of oven I had. Self-cleaning? Continuous cleaning? Non self-cleaning? By process of elimination, I went with old-faithful- even if I had a self-cleaning, it probably didn't work forty years later. Going with the non-self-cleaning, Google said all I would need was a spray bottle, hot water, and baking soda.
How hard could this be?
Apparently, a lot harder than I thought.
This is what my ovens looks like now. It has the dried remains of baking soda. I tried washing it out with plain water. No dice. I tried wiping it out after drying. No dice.
I'm out of ideas. Got any?