This is my house.
It’s a good house. Most of the time we get along famously. It keeps me warm and dry, and I fill it with humanly love. It works for us.
However, my house occasionally turns on me.
Exhibit 1: hole in roof after random spring storm last year.
It failed to keep me dry that day. There was a puddle in my dining room. And a corresponding puddle upstairs. And daylight streaming in from places where daylight shall not stream.
Exhibit 2: falling glassware.
After a long, hard day of yarding this weekend, I was extremely hungry. I convinced myself that I’d enjoy my food more if I showered before I ate. So, I showered. Then, I made food. Then, I went to the kitchen cupboard to get a bowl for my food. I opened the cupboard door…and a stack of bowls fell out. On me. And, despite the fact that 90% of our bowls are plastic, the two glass bowls happened to be in the suicidal stack.
There was glass. All over. The picture was our garbage can after the mess was cleaned up.
I found a little shard of bowl on my banana the next day. Ug.
Today, my garbage disposal decided to plot against me. I was attempting to feed it old mashed potatoes — apparently, it doesn’t like those. It burped up some potatoes and then stopped “disposing” of anything. This means my kitchen sink is filled with a substance that is about 50% water and 50% old potato. (There’s also a green floaty — we’ll call him spinach.)
I’ll spare you the picture. Even I don’t want to look at it. And that’s saying a lot.
PLUS, I stuck my hand down the disposal and cut my finger. It’s right on the tip — you know, the part you can’t really cover up with a bandage. I’m not really sure why I put my hand down the disposal. It just seemed like the thing to do.
A clogged sink means I can’t do my dishes. This also means my new sauce pan that is perfect for cooking my morning oats will still be dirty when I wake up. Sad news.
I addressed my broken household item by taking the following steps:
Step 1: call Dad. Dad knows how to fix a lot of stuff. I described the disposal’s symptoms to Dad and let him listen to the whirring sound of disposal death over the phone. His diagnosis: “Laura, it sounds like the motor is broken.”
This did not solve my dirty dish debacle.
Step 2: eat frozen “salad” and ponder. Said “salad” is delicious and was served at Easter dinner. Only people from Iowa would call it a salad, since it consists of Cool Whip, sweetened condensed milk, pineapple, and cherries. If I’m being honest, Step 2 involved eating dessert.
Step 3: make coffee. This may have backfired, as my coffee pot now needs to be washed and the sink is still clogged. But, sometimes an 11:00 p.m. pot of coffee just hits the spot. Ok, it always hits the spot. And most nights I have an 11:00 p.m. pot of coffee. I also feel a little freakish when I disclose my daily caffeine intake to doctors on the little “doctor questionnaire.”
Step 4: GOOGLE! This seems hopeful. If I manage to fix this bad boy, I’ll be the happiest girl in the whole world! (I’ll even hold off on publishing this post until I’ve attempted the DIY steps on “garbage disposal troubleshooting.” Stay tuned.)
Stupid disposal. Stupid mashed potatoes. The Internet tips only provided a false sense of hope.
Step 5: use all dishes and refrain from using kitchen sink. During this time, the disposal may fix itself.
It’s a pity this happened after I broke half our bowls.
Step 6: sell house. Get prospective buyers to bypass kitchen.