When I came home from work today I was excited to see the inside rack of my dishwasher out of the dishwasher and propped up against one of the walls.
“Is your Dad fixing the dishwasher?” I asked my recently
unemployed homebound husband in a chipper voice.
The thought of the dishwasher (which has been broken and useless for ummm 2 years) working again delighted me more than words can say.
“Open it up,” he replied in a dooms-dayish way. The tone in his voice brought visions of huge rats nests and swamp-like water in the belly of the broken machine through my mind.
I shook my head and simply stated, “I’m scared.”
Again, he said (this time a bit annoyed), “Open it up”.
Reluctantly, I reached for the handle and ever so slowly lifted up the lever. As I warily peeked inside I began to giggle, then I laughed. Hard.
Yes, that’s all of our cats food and litter supplies.
In my still broken dishwasher.
No, that’s not where it’s staying but until I find a real place for it all
someday on Saturday I will be humming the Sanford and Sons theme song,
Every time I feed the cat.