We were hungry.

I'm not a kitchen expert, and this knob had Josh and I confused. The burners on top were pretty easy to figure out...but the oven wasn't so simple. It's a gas stove and we aren't used to that and we couldn't figure out how to work this knob to make the oven work.

The picture of me is the kind of thing I get when I let Josh take pictures...which is why there aren't very many of me. Believe it or not this was the best of about ten pictures of me sitting near the stove, pondering the fish dial.


We gave up, cooking a frozen stuffed chicken breast in a pan. It turned out okay. Josh ate it all, so I don't really know that it was okay.


While Josh ate I took this picture from our balcony. We walked all the way to that beach yesterday. That explains the blisters I have today.


Now this next picture should have been the last one, but I'm still figuring out blogger and it posted before the others somehow. So I'm going to roll with it Tarantino style, start at the end. These scissors are the second thing we've ruined in the two days we've been here. Thomas used a pen to graffiti all over one of the chairs earlier and now we've killed the kitchen shears.

How did the scissors end up in the oven?

Josh figured out that we had to hold down the button, listen for the clicking gas noise and then wait for fire. The fish symbol means broiling and puts out fire on top, but we went for baking with the fire on the bottom.
We wanted a pizza, but it was too big for the oven so we had to cut it in half. Then we read the instructions that you couldn't reuse the baking dish, so we had to cut that too. Being the lazy slobs that we are, we left the scissors on the counter. The first half of the pizza was half cooked because the oven is horribly uneven. Josh went to take it out and realized we don't have any oven mitts, so he used a dishrag, which quickly burned his fingers. He dropped the whole oven shelf on the counter. We heard the sizzle but didn't realize it was the sound of scissors melting onto the oven rack.
So there I am eating my pizza when I think it smells funny, then I see a big flame in the oven. We opened it up to discover the scissors. Josh seemed to think that Thomas had somehow magically gotten the scissors in there. When I pointed out that Thomas isn't tall enough to reach the scissors and that I hoped we would notice our child playing with sharp objects and fire before he could pull off a stunt like that, he admitted it probably wasn't Thomas.

This is the really crappy picture of us realizing the pizza was too big for the oven.

And this is another random photo....the lovely gems I get from Josh having the camera.


On another note, we got cell phones. Our numbers are very long and I don't understand the weird English on my phone. I really have to wonder what the Japanese think they are saying when they translate things.