I Would Imagine Martha Stewart Faces Similar Issues

A few weeks ago we started noticing that whenever I used the oven, the kitchen started to smell like dead fish.

And as we all know, there is nothing quite like the odor of dead fish to convey to your dinner guests that CULINARY DELIGHTS, THEY ARE SERVED HERE.

I figured that something was probably on the burner (?) (element?) (thing inside the oven that turns red?), but even after wiping out the inside of the oven, using the self-cleaning deal, and wiping out the inside of the oven again, the smell stuck around.

It lingered, if you will.

So my best friend Google and I, we did some research. And Google told me that there might be a wiring issue of some sort, so I quickly relayed that information to my husband, seeing as how he handles all our home repair issues.

(I do not venture into home repair issues unless we’re facing a dire emergency because I inevitably get terribly intimidated when dealing with repairmen. They speak a language I do not understand. And when I try to speak their language, I oftentimes cry. So it really is better if I stay out of the home repair picture.)

This past Friday an electrician came to check out our oven – along with some outlets that have been giving us trouble – and while he was here he happened to look over at our dishwasher. Then he said, “You know, I think there’s a recall on that – you might want to check it out.”

And sure enough, when D looked up the serial number online, there was a very urgent message saying DO NOT USE YOUR DISHWASHER! DANGER! FIRE! DISHWASHER COULD CAUSE A FIRE WITH MANY FIERY, HOT FLAMES OF BLAZY DESTRUCTION!

Or something like that.

Anyway, the electrician said we need an appliance repairman for the oven issue, and we ordered the replacement part for the dishwasher, so now we’re waiting on said appliance repairman to call us and set up an appointment so I’ll know when to leave the house and make a Starbucks run while D sorts out the problems with the expert.

Because did I mention that I’m intimidated by repairmen?

I wasn’t sure if I’d covered that or not.

This morning D opened the dishwasher – I guess to make sure that it hadn’t, you know, BURNED UP – and when he saw that there were dirty dishes inside, he said, “Have you, um, been using this?”

And I told him the absolute truth: that I have in fact used it one time since we found out about the recall BUT I only did a light wash AND I stood in the kitchen the whole time the dishwasher was running.

Then he grinned in that way that lets me know he would probably take the time to question my sanity a little more thoroughly if not for the fact that he’s already PLEDGED TO SPEND THE REST OF HIS LIFE WITH ME, and he said, “So you know that you standing in the kitchen isn’t necessarily going to stop a fire from starting back behind the door panel, right?”

“Oh yes,” I replied. “I totally know that.”

And I don’t really know why I just shared that anecdote except to maybe offer further proof that spending six years in the American higher education system is absolutely no guarantee for having, you know, GOOD SENSE.

Because I’m sure that if a fire had in fact started in our dishwasher, I would have found great solace and comfort in the fact that AT LEAST I DIDN’T HAVE TO HANDWASH THOSE PESKY DISHES.