Okay, seems simple enough. I then turned to the stove.

Oh, my, God! I thought to myself. I knew they had bought a new stove but, this was ridiculous! I’m no engineer. Oh boy, what do I do now? How? Ugh! Do I push or pull the knobs? Do I turn the knob? Should I press them down once or maybe like computers they need to be pressed twice? Which one turns on the oven for broil? I peered at the bank of tiny little symbols, my goodness, look at that! Two pots, one with wavy lines, and one with horizontal ones. And another had upright squiggles.

Oh, a thermometer, mmmm, I recognize that, but what does it do? I wonder where the instruction book is. Oh, well, I guess I’ll just try them all! With this momentous decision I began to push, pull, turn, and twisted until finally the oven elements turned on. Wow! Magic!

Oh and look at this, must be some new child protection gadget here on the oven door. Why, it latches. Happy to have accomplished that much I went to check on the children.

Again I went to check the status of the chicken. Peering into the oven through the window I was pleased to see the chicken was turning brown. Leaving it to bake, cook, and broil or whatever else it decided to do, I joined the children for a few minutes. Perhaps I should check on the chicken again, it was browning nicely. It should be turned over. I reached for the door handle.

There was no way that door would open. I pulled, tugged and shook the handle with no results. In sheer frustration I grabbed it and shook it as hard as I could when suddenly the whole contraption simply fell off! Imagine my astonishment. The whole latch simply fell on the floor. Wow!! I, broke, Steph’s, brand new stove, her child proof (and adult proof) stove. How would I explain that I broke her new stove?

I had cooked chicken thousands of times for my own family but I seemed to have failed this time. The new fangled stove won the battle.

Wait till they came back! What a dilemma. (However, on the bright side the chicken was thoroughly cooked (maybe even a little overcooked) but still edible and we had a good supper.)

Monday arrived and so did Steph and Gord. The children awaited their return with anticipation and in my case with trepidation. The children were glad to have Mum and Dad back, and Grandma happy to be relieved of babysitting duty.

As they came through the door I blurted out, “Steph I broke your brand new stove but I didn’t mean too!” She laughingly replied, “Don’t worry Mom that stove turned out to be a lemon and is being replaced! The replacement is coming tomorrow!”

“Wow, thank goodness,” I exclaimed, “tell them to send an engineer along with operating instructions.” We all had a good laugh when we compared notes of the Halloween Babysitter’s Nightmare. Proving that all is well that ends well!