My oven is fairly new. We purchased it a couple of years ago before Malachi was born. It's nothing short of awesome. I honestly use it or the stovetop one or twice a day. Every day. But, in August one morning as I was putting our muffins in to bake, I noticed the top broil heating unit on. I thought it was funny but continued on my merry little way. I still thought nothing of it as I opened the oven door and was blasted with the heat.
Only when I started smelling burnt muffins five minutes later did I realize that our oven was broken.
Mark came home that night to a heartbroken woman. My oven is my constant friend as I feed these growing people. He pulled the oven out, turned on his super smart brain and ordered the broken part that night. Three days later, I had an oven that worked again. He was and is my hero!