No one light a match or work up a sweat

My stepdad taught me that if stuff could go wrong, it will. If you're trying to rid your yard of a pest who has been digging holes around the house, and you decide to pour gas down the hole and then light it, you will catch on fire. Just ask him.

That sort of thing.

So when Dave and I had to decide whether to get the home warranty (that thing that covers major appliances that came with the house when you bought it), we figured our luck wasn't on any distinguishable streak. We signed up. And then we renewed just a couple weeks ago.

Thank freakin' God.

Last night, right before the supposedly-tear-jerking moment in "Music and Lyrics," I noticed my french fries in the oven weren't so much baking as they were fumigating. Or, rather, the oven was leaking gas. Sitting in the other room, I smelled it before I realized they'd been in the oven almost 23 minutes, and yet I didn't smell food.

Big got up and walked away from me; when I found him in the kitchen sitting on the rug right in front of the oven, I thought we were going to have to bring back "Rescue 911" to reenact the moment when I realized my dog was saving my life. I was considering which name I'd change Big's to for the TV show when I opened the oven door to reveal wet and cold fries, sitting in a 200-degree oven.

Yeah, 200 degrees. After 23 minutes. That's 225 degrees below normal for those of you who aren't sous french-fry chefs.

I shut it off and tried to remind myself to tell Dave. Turns out hours later, he smelled the gas, anyhow.

Yay, our first homeowner issue. A broken oven.

But wait, my friends! There's more.

I don't know if you heard, but it's hot. I am grumpy when I have to be outside more than 10 minutes at a time. I'm not personable after 2 minutes. I'll stop talking to you after 1 minute. Anyhow.

I came home today, and it sounded like someone'd turned on all the faucets in the house. Or, someone'd used one of those air hoses you find at gas stations, after you unhook the hose from the car? You know, that whoooooooo sound?

And it's hot. It's so hot. Guys, it was 90 today. Outside. And humid. And sticky. It's still 80.

The air coming in downstairs isn't cold. It's not warm. But it's moving. The upstairs? It's not. I'm going to go Google this now. Then, I'm going to go swimming in a baby pool of ice cubes. Then, I'm going to whine a little bit. I didn't have air conditioning with the exception of one year since 1994, til last year. I don't know how I survived.

And now I have to pay for it? This is fun! Weeeee!