Gutted

I can't believe it happened, but this morning I had an absolute fucking disaster in the kitchen.

About a year ago, we got John Lewis to fit a nice Marmoleum floor. I don't know how much it cost. About a grand, I think. It's got a nice, natural, warm feel underfoot, cleans up well, and looks fantastic.

Earlier in the week I cooked a lamb casserole in the oven. I'd slightly overfilled the casserole, so when it started bubbling, it started dropping stuff onto the bottom of the oven. Which started to smoke.

Usually this kind of thing plays itself out in a couple of days, but every time I've used the oven since, there has been the same sort of burned gravy smoky smell. So my wife requested that I give the oven a clean.

Enter Oven Pride, which I've had in the cupboard for ages. It's that slightly lethal stuff that you apply (to a cold oven) and leave overnight or for a few hours. They also supply a giant plastic bag for you to soak your racks in the stuff.

So I scrubbed it onto the oven, and then - ultimate foolishness - closed the door. Some of it started to drip down, so I immediately grabbed a cloth to wipe it up, opened the door again, and laid down some paper towel to catch further drips.

Two hours later, what do I find? (a) Quite a lot had dripped onto the paper towel, got absorbed, then soaked through to the floor beneath. (b) one stray drip had somehow reached the middle of the kitchen. Result? FUCKED UP FLOOR.

This stuff has eaten through the Marmoleum like acid through skin, and where it has, the floor is ruined. And no matter how gutted I feel now, the flan doesn't really hit the fan until my wife gets home tonight. Kill me now.