Calgon, Take Me Away

Jesus! I think I'm turning into a woman who can't handle crisis. And by crisis, I mean my oven breaking. I think if it were more than that right now, I may just run away to Maine or Scotland (though I don't have a passport), or the wilds of Kansas, I guess. Are there any wilds in Kansas? Really where I need to go is some little town with a name like Peaceful or Serenity; Calm or Lobotomy. I'll investigate.

So, as you can tell, the oven issue is still a drama. Jim, of course wants to save money by repairing it ourselves. Now, usually when we buy something new, like our dishwasher, stove top, and oven, we install ourselves. I'm a little nervous, however, trying to make an electrical repair. Regardless, we are ordering the part that is hopefully the problem and it is supposed to ship today and will - cross your fingers - be here by early next week. Does this suck or what?

I'm trying to be a better wife about this than I've been but it's hard because I'm stressed anyway and Jim's my outlet. Poor guy. I just wish he'd listen to me. It really rubs my ass raw that he doesn't. He knows I'm usually right. Correction: He knows I'm always right. It's hard though when he knows, for example, that the oven is a touchy subject and he just came downstairs and made a not-very-funny joke about it.

Okay - must get crackle lackin. Gotta skittily skat.

Ohh, on a funny note: I told the kids yesterday that I speak Chinese. They started asking things like, "What would my name in Chinese be?" So I would answer things like "Ching chow" and "Shang Hi" and "Bing Bong" - pretty sure they didn't believe me after that last one. Anyway, I think today we'll pretend to be fluent in Italian: "Bucca da beppa da!!!" I sure hope they aren't going home and telling their parents this. You know they are though. Oh well.

P.S. I know this cartoon is so wrong but I laughed out loud at it and had to use it. I don't really think that about my sweet lovey husband!