Good humor makes all things possible.
-Charles Schultz-

With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.
-Shakespeare-The Merchant of Venice-

Saturday, August 28, 2010

how the Grand Canyon was formed

Once upon a time Mrs God noticed a leak under her kitchen sink and pointed it out to her husband, but hey, he was Mr God for heaven's sake (haha!), kinda busy if you hadn't noticed, and he promised to get around to fixing it, and Mrs God said good grief, she'd figure out how to do it herself, but Mr God hadn't made Home Depot yet nor had he made Google or YouTube or AskHow; so the leak just got worse and worse and now people go marvel at the Grand Canyon and as the family lines up for photos in front of the spectacular view, back home water is dripping under their sink.

What do you have to stuff down a garbage disposer to gnaw a hole through the side? I don't know either but my ten-year-old garbage disposer developed an actual hole in the back wall, near the top. It looks like a tiny spot just dissolved, as though acid ate through it or something equally unlikely. Speaking of looking, it is virtually impossible to look at the back side of a garbage disposer. It's pitch dark and also, literally, over my head when I am crammed in there with both a flashlight and a negative outlook.

Recently, I noticed some little puddles under the sink and supposed the water splattering around under there was coming down that mysterious hole where the sprayer hose lives. A while back, feeling very virtuous, I cut up the leftover piece of vinyl flooring from the builder and laid it under all the sinks so it wouldn't die all curled and wasted out in the hot garage. This speck of foresight prevented the scummy disposer drool from ruining the particle board cabinet floor; I wholeheartedly recommend that you also put something under your sinks in case your disposer, in solidarity with mine, gets a hole in it.

Anyway, once I discovered the gruesome little wound and covered it with duct tape (thumbs up on the duct tape, God) while I pondered my options, I watched the Home Depot DIY video and decided that, although I am certain that replacing a disposer that lived ON TOP OF the sink would be well within my plumbing expertise, actually installing one OVER MY HEAD and UNDER THE SINK was pushing my skills, and my biceps, where they will not go.

An extra workday option appeared this week; which I elected to see as a divine nod to buy a disposer. A. bravely volunteered to install it while he is here making sure I don't die after I have my teeth pulled in two weeks. (Naturally I don't anticipate dying, but somebody has to call the coroner lest I end up like that poor woman buried under mountains of refuse in her house for three months while everyone, even her husband, hunted for her. Even those search dogs couldn't find her. But anyway, where was I?) My mom and grandma fixed their own broken crap and built the structures they needed and I appreciate the legacy, but I surrender on this one. I'm sure another chance to wield my homeowner skills will appear next week to test my resolve and prove that each successive generation is indeed weaker and less resourceful than the last.

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