I have a very nice landlord who, after my recent oven fire, brought over a gift. Too bad it was about four days too late.

It’s screwed to the kitchen cabinet as you can see, right in plain sight should there ever be another fire. He said, “Where can I put this so that you’ll remember to use it if there is another fire? But not somewhere where it could fall on one of the kid’s heads, because I know you all are accident-prone …”

Yes. He said that. Then he made me practice yanking it off the wall and verified I knew how to use it properly, which was a trip and left me laughing inappropriately the way I tend to do when MY SANITY IS CRACKING.

I was really hoping to get a new oven out of the deal, but it turned out that the heating element just needed to be replaced. And now that’s done, and I’m left with a mess. I really just want to shut the door and never look in there again … in fact, I might do just that. The whole oven fire ordeal really took a lot out of me, and the thought of getting down on the floor and cleaning this thing is too much for me to handle. We all have limits.

Yeah, no.

But … next time … I’ll be ready. Here’s a selfie of me with my new bestie.

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