Lessons in pizza making.
Immutable Lesson #1 – Natural Gas is flammable and explosive
Immutable Lesson #2 – Even two year old girls have more common sense than two adult males.
My gas range/oven combo recently stopped working; the oven flame wouldn’t light, I couldn’t eat dinner and we smelled gas. Being less adventurous on my own I called BopOp to bolster my courage. After a bit of brief phone-detective he said “Maybe I should just come over?” I said ‘Yes’, already feeling the magic.
Forty minutes, one drill, eight wrenches, two flashlights, one green dental mirror, one black fluffy feather, and a ten gallon hat full of confidence later the oven is somewhat apart and attention is focused on the offending natural gas nozzle.
Abby: (Resolutely referring to her dental mirror on the floor)That is for in your mouth not under the oven.
All: (Distractedly) We know honey. Thanks for letting us borrow it
Abby: Its for in your mouth. Can I have it back please?
With the lower drawer extracted so we could get at the important bits BopOp is on the floor on his side with the black fluffy feather purposefully perched over the nozzle to indicate flow when the nozzle is asked to perform. The rub is that the nozzle isn’t asked to perform by the overly complex circuitry until such time as the small electrical element located very near to the nozzle reaches the appropriate operating temperature somewhere around 1200° F
At this point Angela is in the adjoining room on my laptop looking at new ovens.
Angela: We can get a cheap one for $250!
Abby: (of Angela) Mommy? Can I have my mirror back now? It is on the floor.
Despite the fact that we brimming with Zimmerman and our confidence is riding a wave of success BopOp and I are acutely aware of the power inherent in the combination of natural gas and extreme localized temperatures so we are taking every precaution. For instance, I took it upon myself to make sure the door was mostly closed while I observed at close range the performance of said nozzle and I took the important step to ensure my finger was poised adroitly over the Set/Cancel button should the unlikely need arise. And I mean he has a feather for chrissakes. ‘Safety First’.
Abby: (still from the other room) Daddy!? Can I have my mirror back now? Don’t step on it cause it’s on the floor.
Just then, element glowing proudly, my finger poised skillfully, Abby’s black fluffy feather positioned neatly by BopOp incapable of retreat, the nozzle which previously had responded to no small amount of cajoling by the cowboys in ten gallon hats sprang to life with a menacing and unsociable “BbBbBbBbggggggggggPOW!”
‘Gas? Welcome to the party. Allow me to introduce you to Twelvehundred Degrees and his best friend Oxygen.’
BopOp: Whoaaa! <incoherent> TURNITOFF! TURNITOFF!
Quick as a catnap I deactivated the source of the yellow flame prancing it’s way around Angela’s oven. Quicker than that Abby, toddler extraordinaire and momentarily abandoning her unrequited longing for the forlorn green dental mirror, calmly and skillfully closed the door/firebreak to the adjoining room saying to Angela:
Abby: That was polite. That’s OK right?
The result?
One charred black feather
At least One hairless finger (BopOp)
One green dental mirror returned
One fixed oven, not the worse for it’s hotflash and
Immutable lesson #3: One smallish and disagreeable MexiFiesta Taco-Pizza is certainly not worth the wrestle.
I like the term squnchy for this picture. She popped the pose in an instant and I was only lucky to have focus.
blief 