Though they are stylish and simple to maintain, glass stovetops must be handled carefully to prevent damage. Here are nine risky behaviors to stay away from:
Applying Abrasive or Rough Cleaners
“Avoid using abrasive or rough cleaners as they can cause surface scratches.” Apply a mild cleaning made specifically for glass stovetops.
Setting Up Bulky Pots and Pans
Heavy cookware can cause glass stovetops to crack. “Use lightweight pots and pans” to shield surfaces from harm.
Pots and Pans that Slid
Cookware dragging may cause scratches on glass. Pots and pans should never be slid; always elevate them.
Leaving Traces and Leaks
“Clean spills promptly” to prevent damage and baked-on stains.
Using Unclean Cookware to Cook
Stovetop residue from unclean cookware might be harmful. Make sure your cookware is spotless.
Putting Hot Lids Down, Face Up
Hot lids have the potential to break glass and produce abrupt temperature fluctuations. Pick a surface that can withstand heat.
Disregarding Chips or Cracks
“Don’t ignore chips or cracks,” as they may enlarge and break the stovetop. Look for repairs right away.
Warming Up a Vacant Pot or Pan
Cooktop damage can result from overheating empty cookware. Keep food or liquids in your pots at all times.
Not adhering to the manufacturer’s recommendations
Observe detailed maintenance guidelines to prevent damage and safety risks.
Take care of your glass stovetop by avoiding these habits.
My Granddaughter Forced Me Out for Getting Married at 80 — I Couldn’t Stand the Disrespect & Gave Her a Lesson to Remember
After my granddaughter ousted me for marrying at 80, I couldn’t accept her disrespect. Together with my new husband, Harold, we crafted a bold plan to teach her an unforgettable lesson, culminating in a family-altering confrontation.
I never imagined sharing this tale, but here it is. My name is Margaret, and I celebrated my 80th birthday last spring. I resided in a small, personalized room within my granddaughter Ashley’s home, surrounded by keepsakes of my life.
“Morning, Grandma,” Ashley would say, bursting into my room unannounced. She never knocked.
“Morning, dear,” I’d reply, tidying up my space. “What’s the hurry?”
“We’re off to the park with the kids. Need anything?”
“No, I’m good. Enjoy your day.”
After she rushed off, I reflected alone. I couldn’t complain much; after all, I had sold my house to fund her college education after her parents died tragically when she was 15.
I took her in and strived to provide a good life. Now, she lived here with her husband, Brian, and their two children, in a home that was always bustling.
Things took a turn when I met Harold at the community center months ago. He was charming, always with a camera around his neck. Our chats soon became the highlight of my week, offering a second shot at love.
One day, while Ashley was at work, I decided to share my news. I found her in the kitchen that evening, busy with a recipe book.
“Ashley, I have something to tell you,” I started.
She looked up, “What is it, Grandma?”
“I’ve met someone. His name is Harold, and… he proposed.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Proposed? You mean, marriage?”
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