being stuck

Yesterday when I got home from work, I decided to be industrious and non-slackery for at least a few minutes and started loading the dishwasher. Soon I was punished for my industrious ways as I discovered a glass had fallen into the garbage disposal and was full of water. The glass was the perfect size for the disposal, seemed to be made for it really. Its circumference was such that the glass could fall into the disposal, but no room remained on the sides to use any type of utensil to get it back out. And the top of the glass came two inches or so below the top of the sink drain opening.


My first thought was, “I’m glad P. is coming home soon so he can figure this out.” This thought was in no way triggered by the fact that I’m a girl and he’s a guy. This thought was triggered by the fact that’s he’s a person, other than me. And I expected him soon. Any person would have done, really. He was just the most convenient.

But as I waited, I did try to get the glass out myself. I tried everything I could think of, including lowering a large sticky ball of tape into the glass, hoping it would catch and I could pull it up. This did not work, in case you had any doubts whatsoever. I also looked under the sink, in case I could do something plumbing-related that might help, but realized I would have to completely take apart the garbage disposal, and even then, would probably not be able to get to the glass.

I could break it.

Nah, that’s craziness. Better to wait for P.

P. came home. I skipped the whole “how was your day, can I get you a drink” thing and went straight to the issue at hand. “Look. It’s a glass.”

He tried all the same methods to get it out (well, except that tape thing) and then looked at me.

“I could break it.”

He started stabbing at it with the back of a fork until it shattered. Then, he used tongs to get out all the pieces he could find. Finally, we turned away our faces and he ran the water full blast and flipped the garbage disposal switch.

As we cringed from the noise of grinding glass, he said, “it’s a good thing you’re moving soon.”

And I was thinking, we’re lucky we don’t have to pass a “prove you are responsible enough to be a homeowner” test when we sign our closing paperwork.

This entry was posted in Life. Bookmark the permalink.

Comments are closed.