I’ve been back in Omaha for a week now. It’s a bit weird to be in mom and dad’s house
without them here yet I can say I enjoy being alone. I’m especially happy that I can park my car
in the garage for the next four months.
Yes, I am spoiled and if I had to scrape my windows of snow and ice and
get into a frigid car every day this winter I may have come unglued. I am on emotionally tenuous ground here,
folks.
I think I broke the dish washer. There are five or six wash option push
buttons on the face of the machine and while I was tooth-brushing off years of
dried on gook, I decided I would push a couple newly discovered options. Extra
hot wash was one of them. I added a bit
of soap, kicked start and off to an appointment I went. (For those who follow
this blog, you know the only way to get the dishwasher closed and started is to
kick the door shut.)
It didn’t seem odd to me that the dishwasher was still
running when I arrived home from my appointment. What did
seem odd to me was that it was Amazon hot in the kitchen, there was humidity
sweat beads on the face of the cabinetry and mom’s blue plaid kitchen wallpaper
was curling. What is going on here?! That’s when I noticed the steam shooting from
around the door edges of the washer. It
was a bit Tom and Jerry Cartoonish to be honest. I pushed in the stop button and went on to my
next activity while the dishes cooled.
Wow! I haven’t seen
dishes at this house come out this clean and DRY ever. Great!
Maybe a hot wash is a long wash.
I didn’t think more of it until the next load to wash. I kicked it on and……nothing. I tried to open it to see if perhaps I closed
it wonky. I can’t get it open. I kick it.
A few times. The dial won’t budge,
the door will not open, it is not operating and the only sharp knife in the house
is prisoner inside the machine.
I call my brother. My brother is a mechanic and fixer of
all things mechanical. In this family he is the buck where all decisions
mechanical stop. He says he will come
over. Fixing stuff is his responsibility
and performing last rites are, too. So
HE will have to make the call to mom and dad if a new dishwasher is in order. If I call with the news they ‘ll ask, “What did
your brother say?”
Its day three. I
have dish pan hands. I have developed
bursitis from cutting foods with dull knives. My brother doesn’t answer anymore
of my calls. Tonight’s dinner will be
dry cereal out of a box.
Its about time that dish washing machine bit the dust!!! You will be doing mom and dad a favor!!
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