I got up to turn Benson and then quickly ran back to bed. Then I lay there wondering if I smelled something burning until I convinced myself it was fine and I could go back to sleep. In reality, it was fine and had I gotten up, I couldn't have done anything about it anyway. Our furnace motor just burned up. Jon was able to figure it out himself and order a new motor on Amazon. But it took three days for the motor to come in. We were also struck with the plague about that same night. We spent the next three days, with borrowed space heaters, mostly contained to one room, trying to stay warm and get better. I also wanted to make fresh bread for Benson's physical therapist because we just love her. But our kitchen really was freezing so I decided the bread would need to rise somewhere warmer. Vanessa's room seemed like the perfect spot. And it worked great, except the kids kept messing with the dough. Because bread dough is suddenly way more exciting when it is unsupervised, on the floor. The kids also claimed that Brigham put a few toys in the dough. And not just any toy, but the Barbie doggie poop. Of course. I still gave the bread away, after attempting to find said doggie poop and having no luck. But I did warn them the kids claimed a toy might be in there. I didn't really fess up to it being toy poop.
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