Last night, after an active day, I made Dad and myself a grilled cheese sandwich and we three settled in to watch the movie Kite Runner, which is an excellant film by the by. After the movie, we started heading upstairs to call it a night, when Kim noticed that the kitchen was extremely hot. The oven was performing as if it were getting ready for Thanksgiving Dinner. It was scorchingly hot to the touch and no matter what we tried it just didn't want to turn off! The three of us, aka the safety committee, decided that we should unplug the damn thing and shut off the gas as well.
This morning, Dad informed us that this is called a "runaway stove." Frankly Kim and I had never heard if such a thing. It did, however, evoke some hysterical images of alternative meanings: a stubborn teenager threatening to leave home because we disapprove in the choice of boyfriend, a rogue ship run aground by aliens or pirates and my personal favorite any "B" cult movie classic.
I immediately envisioned a 1950's horror flick, where one must fear their appliances. "After a comet passed dangerously close to our planet, our world has never been the same. The kitchen, once a homemaker's best friend, is now a murderous place. No honey, don't go in there to bake that cake. Watch out for the attacking killer stove!" This announcement is then promptly followed by a, overly dramatic, blood curdling scream.
All kidding aside, I'm just glad we were home when this transpired. Dad said that if it had gone in all night or worse while we were away, it could have caught fire and burnt the house down. Yikes! Normally there are safety features built into the appliance, but they sometimes can fail, apparently. Now we are in search of a new or used stove to replace this misbehaving one. Darn rogue stove!