Scene:My kitchen - again. It's a massively hot and humid day outside - we're wilting from the heat and finding things to do indoors until the sun starts to go down.
When:
Sunday, 3:45 pm
Me (walking in and observing that Brian is wiping off the top of the stove - actual range pictured): Wow - thanks for wiping that down. You know, I usually hit it (the black glass top) with the vacuum first to get the dust and food off.
Brian: Oh - I'd never do that. What about the fire?
Me: Um - fire?
Brian: You know - the fire (pointing) - in the metal box.
Me: You mean a pilot light?
Brian: Yeah - that. If I blow that out - there's gas. We'll die.
Me: It's an electric start.
Brian: No fire. In the metal box?
Me: Am I in the road company of 'Nell"? No - there is no pilot light - look! (demonstrate electric starter)
Brian: I'm going outside.
Philip: sigh - please do.
4 comments:
You and Brian remind me of Bob and Carlos.
This happens often at our place too, but I'm normally the one having the blonde moment. Poor Stan has to deal with all the down time when I've shut my brain off.
I see a comic strip...
People who voluntarily clean the stove at my house are allowed to do it however they damn well please!
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