yet another reason for take-out
Posted By becky on November 16, 2009
Before Matt came along our small but cute kitchen was mostly used for storage of my purse, wine and the coffee maker. It’s not that I don’t enjoy cooking, I do! But it’s not very fun to cook for a kid who’s main diet consists of peanut butter on a bagel, yogurt, hot dogs and if we were getting really “Top Chef ” chicken nuggets with frozen corn.
So when Matt graciously entered my life, the June Cleaver gene kicked in hardcore. Now I’m that woman who has her little list at the grocery store, getting all the ingredients for the week’s family meals (please read that sentence in Sarah Palin’s voice). I do love it. Until I actually have to cook the meal… in my kitchen.
As you can see, I don’t have the biggest kitchen (and it’s not normally this messy. This was after a dinner party with lots of wine wherein I thought, “Dude! Check out this mess. Totally taking a picture!”) What’s worse is that this kitchen is in the middle of the apartment. Not even close to a window or any other major ventilation. Sure there is a fan over the stove but it’s more like a hint of a fan with the air pressure of a heavy breather.
The other thing in my small enclosed kitchen? The downstairs smoke alarm. Because that’s a great spot for it.
Again, before Matt, I never noticed it because as luck should have it, not much smoke is created while making Frosted Flakes. But cooking that man of mine up some sausage in the morning? Woo boy!
“BLLLLLEEEEEEPPPPP!”
This piece of fire prevention is not subtle. It’s fog horn loud. It’s F-16 jet loud. It’s Fran Drescher loud. Not only that but it’s as sensitive as a 14 year old girl with PMS having a bad hair day. You just think a hot thought and it goes off. This smoke alarm is VERY dedicated to it’s work. No fires are going on under it’s watch!
Which is endearing but really? Taking something out of the oven? “BLLLLEEEEPPPPP!” Making rice on the stove? “BLLLLEEEEGGGGHHH!” God forbid you flip those pancakes! “BLLLLLAAAAAOOOOOWWWW!”
Sunday morning I was making TOAST. Not over an open flame. IN THE TOASTER! Matt walked in the kitchen and “BLLLEEEEEEEPPPPP!” Since I hadn’t yet had enough coffee and apparently I’m still in denial about the power of The Alarm, I yelled “Why did you set that off?” Poor Matt looked at me like I just grew another nose. “I didn’t. I walked in and it went off.”
So now, Mr Alarm thinks body heat plus one small appliance equals grave danger.
Enough is enough. My ears hurt and my heart can’t take much more. I really need to have a sit down with my Protector On The Wall and let him know the difference between smoke and steam.
Because as long as Matt is around, and thankfully he’s not going anywhere for a long long time, I’ll be in my little nook cookin’ away.
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Can you come cook for me?
Saddest part of this. I have a medium/large kitchen and I hate to cook. You like to cook with a small kitchen. What a waste! In mine, you could heat up a lot..like a hooker.
i just think it means your smoke detector is trying to agree with you. your man is hot!
Mama bird, I’ll cook for you if I can use Susan’s kitchen. And just have Ann by my side. With wine. Like a hooker.