I really enjoy making holiday meals for my immediate and extended family, and this year was no exception. My husband loves to cook as well, and together we planned a Christmas dinner menu that was perfect, with the main attraction being a roast beef tenderloin with caramelized onion and mushroom stuffing and an herb butter brushed over it at the end. (Thank you to my dad for providing the beef! It was a gorgeous piece of meat.) 

I’d calculated when the roast needed to go in the oven, in order for it to have enough time to cook and then enough time to rest before our scheduled dinnertime, and fifteen minutes before that I turned the oven on to preheat it.

Except, it wouldn’t start.

My husband and I tried about fifty-seven times over the next hour to get the oven to start before we had to admit defeat. Thankfully, it was not nearly as bad as it could have been and dinner wasn’t ruined, since I was able to use the oven at my parents’ house, so we were able to have our roast (albeit a bit later than planned) despite the non-working oven. It was just such a bummer to have our oven decide to poop out on Christmas Day. 

Except, it turns out it didn’t poop out. Rather, it seems that someone’s too-rough handling of the drawer beneath the oven over the past few years had a hand in wedging a baking sheet up against the igniter wire over and over — which accounts for why we’ve long thought the oven was a “finicky starter” (though we’d always been able to get it to start after a few tries). Yes, that “someone” would be me. In fact, on Christmas morning itself I’d pulled the drawer out and couldn’t get it to go back in quite right and my solution was to keep trying to ram it in there as hard as I could. I kicked it a few times. I yelled in frustration. And then the oven wouldn’t start later, just when we needed it to be on top of its game for Christmas dinner for us and our guests.

It’s sort of funny this happened when it did, because we discovered my role in the non-working oven just days after I’d gotten angry at the boys for being too rough with their things. Specifically, their clothes. Specifically, their brand new clothes.

Brand new clothes are pretty rare in our house, especially for the younger boys. We’ve been the fortunate and grateful recipients of many many hand-me-downs from family and friends since my oldest was born, which has been such a gift. Because of them, I haven’t had to buy too many new things for the boys over the years, but every once in a while we run into a situation where nothing fits anyone, or I can’t find that bag I stored away that has those particular things we need, or what we have in the necessary size has too many holes from being worn out by the big brothers.

This winter has been one of those times — we were short on pants of all kinds! Some boys didn’t have jeans, some didn’t have sweatpants (or athletic pants, or whatever they’re calling them these days … I usually just call them “comfy pants”), some didn’t have church pants, one has been wearing too-small snow pants all winter. I haven’t been overly worried, since I was confident Santa would come through — and he did! Each of the boys received the pants they needed on Christmas morning, and they all got socks as well (another of those things that we always need and seemingly can never find) — this mama could not have been happier. In fact, I told the boys that those gifts were really for me! (They weren’t amused.)

But guess what? Within three days of Christmas, two of the boys had put holes in the knees of their pants. Their brand new pants. This mama was furious. This mama was not amused.

I might have said things like, “Are you kidding me?” and “What were you thinking?” and “Why would you do that?” “Boys!” I growled to myself. “They’re so rough with everything!” I lamented.

And then, just a few days later: Mom’s Roughness Discovered to Be Cause of Broken Oven.

Fortunately, the oven was an easy fix, and I can easily mend the boys’ pants (those particular pants were meant mostly for lounging around the house anyway), so there was no real disaster with either situation. Just a reminder — a resolution — to be more patient with children and appliances. So, 2020’s off to a good start, I guess! I hope this new year is full of joy and blessings for all of you!

(Thanks to Jim Parisi of Parisi Appliance House for the appliances and service he’s provided us for as long as we’ve been homeowners!)

Kate and her husband have seven sons ages 15, 13, 11, 9, 8, 5, and 1. Follow her at www.facebook.com/kmtowne23, or email her at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..