Death of a Dishwasher   39 comments

Recently, my dishwasher passed away. We held a small funeral; immediate family members only. It was a sad day, but as I’m not one to dwell, I put on my big girl pants and started shopping for a replacement. Sounds callous, I know, but I think wherever old Dishy Mcdisherson is, she understands.

It didn’t take long to find the “one”. She was perfect. Gleaming stainless steel with a heavy load capacity. She even had a food disposer, which is great for us because my children think pre-scraping is something that happens right before they start a fight with one another.

I was in love, or at the very least, willing to stop seeing other dishwashers.

I purchased her and brought her to her new forever home. Weird how I refer to her as a her . . . Perhaps because doing the dishes is a woman’s job . . . Said no woman ever. I just put that in there to see if you were paying attention.

Anyhow, back to my story.

I was so excited. I couldn’t wait to have her moved in so she could begin making my dishes sparkle and my silverware shine. I called my husband and told him to strap on his work belt, charge up his power tools and channel his inner handyman.

When I arrived home my hubby and I brought her in and carefully carried her up the stairs and into our kitchen. I should qualify the word “carefully”. We may have hit a wall or two on the way up, which will probably require a smidge or so of dry wall repair and a dab of paint but luckily, she came through unscathed.

At that point, feeling I had done my part, I left to share the big news with my Facebook friends. Just as I was about to send my exciting status update, however, I heard my husband express himself in the most colourful way. Judging by his tone and his preference for words that rhyme “truck “and “spit”, I immediately knew that something was amiss.

I called out, asked him what was the matter. He then said three words to me that I will never forget.

“It doesn’t fit.” Just like me in high school, she was too tall.

I couldn’t believe it. How was this possible? I had done all the research, asked all the right questions. I had even stared into the salesman’s eyes and asked him “is that your best price?” This situation was unacceptable. I told my husband to take the wheels off and any other non-essential parts; make it fit. Sadly, he had already thought of that.

So I walked away. I needed time to think and my husband was starting to become poor company to be around. It wasn’t five minutes later that I heard the sound. It didn’t make sense at first; it was just this loud buzzing and grinding noise.

I followed the sound into the kitchen and it was there I found the source. My husband was wielding a jigsaw like Jason from Friday the 13th, minus the hockey mask. It seemed that he had concluded, in his infinite wisdom, to cut our kitchen counter in half and slide her into place. When I asked him how he had come to this decision he said “it didn’t fit…so I made it fit.” While I did argue the method I really couldn’t fight the simplicity of his logic.

So what began as an innocent quest for cleaner dishes ended up as a rather extensive and expensive kitchen renovation.

You might be wondering what the moral of this story is, and that, my friends, is surprisingly simple.

Measure twice ….cut NEVER!!!






39 responses to “Death of a Dishwasher

Subscribe to comments with RSS.

  1. I’m the dish washer in the house. I hope my wife doesn’t decide to swop me for a newer, younger model. In my case size doesn’t matter…!

  2. OH my goodness, favorite story of the week! I love the homage to Sherry Petersik, “Is that your best price?”. Too funny!

  3. First: condolences on the loss of your dishwasher. Secondly… thanks for the laughs! I hope the renovation is not too costly on your budget or your nerves!

  4. I kept wondering where this was going since I just wrote my own post personifying a dishwasher (and other appliances) but I did NOT see the “she didn’t fit” part coming! Absolutely hysterical! The whole thing. Tone, style, word choices, “inciting incident” lol…. LOVE this piece!!! Oh, and Here’s mine if you wanna check out a “Male” Dishwasher…. Lol

    • Ok. See now this doesn’t shorn when you are single, no commitments, I’m this throwaway culture I would have just returned it even though for a brief shining moment the dishwasher had appeared to be, the one. I hope new countertops are in your future and soon. RIP Dishy Mcdisherson.

    • You are hilarious!

  5. Ouch. But hey, I think she is worth it.

  6. haha tragédia ^^

  7. Holy mackerel! Brilliant (the post, not the cutting of the countertop.) The things we do for love (of a dishwasher), eh? Hope the new one cleans really well. I didn’t even know they came with disposals! Perhaps I might need to assassinate ours to make room for a newer model. 😉

  8. Having just repaired our two years old Kenmore once again I can only say “do your homework, new units are junk units”! 😦 We were better off repairing this one?

    • Yes I agree…however our old one was beyond repair. They just don’t make things that last anymore. And it’s always the most expensive part that goes first. Weird how that works….

  9. You know a little piece of duct tape will cover that crack perfectly! My ole pappy always said” if it don’t fit, force it, if it breaks, you needed a new one anyway….”

  10. You got a good man there! Can Do attitude!

  11. haha! I work the same way your husband does. If it doesn’t fit, I make it fit. Love the story, thanks for the laughter!

    • You know what? I am, as a mother of six children, I think I really need a dishwasher.. I never had one, and since I brought an automatic washing machine.. it saves very much time, and if I brought a dishwasher !! I’ll be absolutely happier hhhhhh.
      I wish it won’t cost you too much to fix the counter top.

  12. wow, ouch, and LOL. Oh, the joy of the new dishwasher and the anti-joy of that countertop!

  13. Love, love, love this! You are a wonderful storyteller, I’m sharing this~~

  14. About calling your dishwasher she or her – the English language doesn’t differentiate between words being male or female, but in many other languages there is that difference. For instance, in Germany, beer is female. In Greece, a home or house is male. Maybe those of us who speak English all the time subconsciously make words male or female.

  15. I am with your husband on this. We both subscribe to the Skilsaw School of Home Improvement – but personally, I would have taken a chunk out of the floor.

    On the other hand, it appears that you are much like my wife – asking a guy like us to install something is what psychologist call “a one time learning experience”.

  16. So funny! (Not for you, probably . . . ) Let us know what else the renovation leads to!

  17. Just the type of thing that would happen to me. I wouldn’t be as cool about it as you managed though. 😀
    I like how your dishwasher is called ‘she’, which gives this machine the status as a member of the family and, of course, you’d do anything to make her fit in. (pun intended), 😀 😀 😀

  18. Marry me! Honest to God, you are on top of your game. Absolutely excellent.
    Thank you for the Like on the parade thing. I am new to this online thing. Two weeks today. I love this place. But i get no proper writing done. YOU are a Great writer!!!

  19. Thank you for the laughter and for your visit today 🙂

    If it’s any consolation, we have a fridge that sticks out about 5″ from the nook it was supposed to fit in, which in turn prevents us to use the above storage cabinet…

    Now I’ve never really known the answer to this one; would the fridge be a “he” or a “she”? 😉

  20. Very funny
    Loved this story

    I bought blinds for the house, various rooms, threw away the packaging before realising they were all too short…. Short blinds. No point. Luckily making windows shorter to fit wasn’t an option!

  21. I hate it when the simplest job turns into a major undertaking (no pun intended in the demise of the late miss washer, well maybe it was). We, luckily, found out that there were now two heights of starboard dishwashers before we purchased ours. Many of the high tub (meaning you can actually fit things into the dishwasher) are now higher than the older models.

    But one of the benefits of our newer model is that it is much less noisy – quiet even. Mind you it takes twice as png to wash the dishes. The worst part is it still needs stacking and emptying – life is such a trial. Then there is the TV or brainwasher as I prefer to think of it…

  22. That was fun, for me! Good thing you put “Said no woman ever” in there because I was about to quit reading and leave you a piece of my mind, and I’m not even a woman!………….lol

  23. Funny with sad ending. :D:( Poor old dishwasher. Poor cabinet countertop.

  24. I feel for you. We bought a new dishwasher once because after installing a new garbage disposal our original dish washer stopped draining. We learned from the installer of the new dishwasher that there’s a plug you have to take out when connecting a new disposal. Sigh.

  25. Haha. At first I thought you meant a human dishwasher. It took me till the ‘food disposer’ part. Though that would be a neat human attachment.

  26. Thanks for the follow. I jumped over to your blog to check it it out… You had me at the word sarcasm and the correct use of self-deprecating in a sentence! I look forward to reading more musings from someone with a similar sense of humour to myself.

  27. Awwww the poor counter! No one cares about how she feels!

  28. Great story Janyce. LOL How did you deal with the counter after all was said and done?

  29. There, s a lot to be said for a tape measure and taking same said tape measure to the shop. I have found small errors in various measures can make a big difference…as you did also.
    good post and iam still laughing

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

The Lab Report

Fake pet news. Follow us on Twitter @hellolabreport

Tea first, panic later.

One girl's story of fighting mental illness in the big city

%d bloggers like this: