For once its not the scent of dirty nappy either. Yesterday I roped poor old huby into helping with the grubby housework. He did the bathroom I went to Tesco’s and got one of those clean your oven kits. After being thoroughly terrified by the warnings I got the grill pan into the bag with some of the cleaning solution and splodged the rest over my oven.
6 hours later I tried to clean it up but found that the fumes were aggrevating my asthma so I put both boys to bed giving hubby clear instructions to wipe up the black goop and then clean the oven with lots of warm soapy water. I was told that this had been done a suprising 5 minutes later. Well done you I thought as I washed and dressed Ben.
Today I switched the oven on as I made Ciaran’s two bottles for the day and realised after a few minutes that as I got the chicken out I was wheezing again and there was a funny taste at the back of my throat, I opened the oven and a plume of white smoke shot out, symbolising not the election of a pope but that my hubby’s cleaning had been haphazard at best. I threw open the conservatory and oven door, left it to cool a little before scrubbing the oven and oven door with plenty of warm soapy water.
Lucky for us that I did, otherwise we would be having roast with the slightest hint if hydrogen peroxide.