The Unexpected Side Effects of Avoiding Chores

The Oven-Cleaning Lesson I Didn’t Want to Learn

You know how some stories come with a moral, but you really wish they didn’t have to happen to you?

Yeah. That’s what I’ve got for you this week. A story, a lesson, and a cautionary tale involving pork chops, cookies, and an oven with more experience than age.

Let’s begin.

The Innocent Pork Chop Plan

Last Sunday, I had a simple dinner idea: shake ’n bake pork chops with a simple salad. No big deal, right?

This time I thought I’d be smart and use a wire rack in the roasting pan so the chops would get crispy all around – you know, airflow and all that. Genius! I was pretty sure I’d done it before. What could possibly go wrong?

Well. Let me tell ya…

Smoke and Panic

Near the end of the cooking time, I opened the oven door to check the chops’ internal temperature.

SMOKE BILLOWED OUT.

Like a rational adult, I did what anyone would do.

I panicked and shut the door.

Then I turned on the fan, peered anxiously through the oven window for flames – none – whew, took a deep but vaguely panicked breath, donned my oven mitts like battle armour, and opened the door again.

MORE SMOKE.

This time, I snatched the pan out, waved away the smoke like it was going to listen to me, inspected the situation (though I had no idea what I was looking for), and shut the door again.

Apparently, the fat from the pork chops was dripping through the rack onto the blisteringly hot pan below, instantly splattering everywhere like bacon shrapnel. The chops weren’t even done yet, but I knew they couldn’t go back in on the rack so, I placed them directly onto the pan to finish and pretended everything was fine.

Avoidance: My Favourite Cleaning Method

Once dinner was done (and surprisingly edible), my mind turned to the dread that lay ahead:

Oven cleaning.

You know what I do with tasks I dread?

You guessed it…

I avoid them.

And I did just that. Sunday evening? Nope. Monday morning? Also nope. I would simply live with the memory of the smoke and pretend it didn’t exist.

What happens when chores are avoided …

Fast forward to Monday night. I got home later than usual, made dinner, and remembered I needed to whip up a batch of fibre cookies for Tuesday morning … apparently, we’re that old now – old enough to be the kind of people who pre-plan digestive aid.

Did I clean the oven first?

Absolutely not.

In fact, I kind of forgot all about it until the oven was already preheating. Too late now! Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?

(Oh, sweet innocent child…)

The cookies baked. No smoke, no issue. Sure the oven had a little smell to it but it was no big deal.

I packed them up. Brian took them with him to work in the morning. Everything was back to normal. Or so I thought.

The Text

There I was, halfway through my Tuesday morning workout, when my phone pinged.

Brian is the only one up that early, so I glanced at the screen.

“Have you tried the cookies?”

Uh-oh. I knew instantly: that was not a good text.

At that moment, the pork chop smoke incident was completely out of my head, so I replied nonchalantly that I’d try one after I finished working out. I almost did another set just to delay the inevitable. But curiosity (and dread) got the better of me.

The Taste of Regret

Workout done, I dread-walked to the kitchen. I grabbed my coffee mug – still with a cold sip or two left, just in case – and headed toward the cookie jar.

I opened the lid like it might bite me.

Gingerly pulled one out.

Sniffed it.

Paused.

Took a deep breath.

Bit in.

And…

PORK CHOP!!!

I kid you not. It tasted like someone had taken a pork chop, rolled it in oats, and baked it at 350°F. I grabbed my coffee like it was a life preserver and swished for dear life. It didn’t help.

I brushed my teeth, drank more water, ate breakfast, and brushed my teeth again.

Still tasted pork. Just writing this I can taste it again: the ghost of dinners past.

The Clean-Up That Couldn’t Be Avoided Any Longer

Clearly, I would need to bake a fresh batch of cookies that night. But that meant I would finally have to face the piggy oven of doom. And here’s where the lesson comes in…

The Super Simple Way to Clean Your Oven (Without Chemicals or Crying)

Step 1: Steam It Out

If your oven has a steam clean or “easy clean” function, now’s the time to use it.

If not, no problem! You can fake it:

Pour 1 cup of water into a shallow baking pan
Set oven to 375°F
Let it bake for 15–20 minutes

This will soften the gunk and start to loosen the splatters.

Step 2: Wipe What You Can

Once the oven cools slightly, open the door and wipe out as much of the mess as possible using a cloth or paper towel. Try not to judge yourself too harshly for not doing this sooner. Or do. That’s your business.

Step 3: Spray the Magic Mix

In a spray bottle, combine:

1 cup white vinegar
1 tsp dish soap (mine’s from The Unscented Company)

Spray the entire inside of the oven generously. Let it sit while you go to work, run errands, or process what just happened to your cookies.

Step 4: One More Steam and Wipe

After work (or whatever), run another steam cycle for a few minutes at a low heat setting with more water to re-soften any stubborn bits. Wipe again.

Your oven will look and smell clean again – no more ghosts of dinners past lingering.

Step 5: Bonus Rack Trick

I used Nancy Birtwhistle’s brilliant trick:

Lay the oven racks on the lawn overnight!

Seriously. That’s it. Morning dew softens the grime, and they wipe clean like a charm. I kid you not!

The Redemption Batch

With a clean oven and a sense of mild shame, I made a fresh batch of cookies.

The next morning, the verdict arrived via text:

“The cookies are good.”

Good? Not “amazing”? Not “you’re forgiven forever”? Not “no longer pork-adjacent”?

Well. I suppose I’ll take “good.”

I’ll have to try one for myself. In a little bit. With coffee just in case.

Moral of the Story?

Sometimes trying to be “smart” in the kitchen ends in smoky chaos.

Sometimes your procrastination sneaks up and seasons your cookies with regret.

And sometimes your oven racks need a little outdoor therapy too.

But at least now, I’ve got a clean oven. A cleaning trick I’ll actually use again. And a story that I’m really hoping Brian doesn’t tell at family gatherings – but he already has sooooo.

You? You’ve got a lesson, a laugh, and a warning: Always clean up your pork fat or one day, it’ll haunt you.

Surely I’m not the only one with chore-avoidant mishaps … am I?! Please tell me one of your kitchen blunders – one you can laugh about now.

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