You know, it used to kind of offend me that my husband wasn't all that interested in reading my blog. I'd be all like, "WHY doesn't he take an interest in this? I LIKE this, and it's about ME, and shouldn't he be INTERESTED in ME and WHAT I LIKE?!?!?!?"
But. . .
1. He is interested and reads it whenever he can. However, he is usually tied up in actually working crazy amounts to try and provide for us so that I can stay home and be here for our son. And that means much more to me than him reading my blog. Plus, it's really me. I can't help it if I find it offensive that he his not hitting his refresh button every 30 seconds to see if I've written anything else. Also -
2. Now I realize that I can totally confess stuff on here and he'll never know! Unless one of my followers who know both of us told him about the stuff I confess. But you wouldn't do that to me. Right? (I so hope all of you are nodding in agreement right now, cos here goes. . .)
I took our dishwasher apart today.
Uh-huh. I surely did.
So we moved into this house almost 4 years ago (sidebar - WOW! Time flies!) And the dishwasher has never really washed dishes all that well. And it just got worse the longer we lived here. Occasionally, I'd ask my very handy husband if he could take a look at it.
OK, hold on a second.
Disclaimer time - Lest you all think what he's about to respond with is mean and how he must be a real jerk, I must say, that he's totally not. He's a pretty great guy. I would also bet that almost every husband who has a wife and a dishwasher would say the same thing.
OK, back to the story.
So my handy husband would respond, "Well I'll make a deal with you. You stop putting the dishes in without rinsing them, and I'll look at the dishwasher." At which point I'd get irritated because I DO rinse the dishes if they are gross. I don't put them on with lots of food on them. But yes, occasionally, they might not be totally rinsed off. However, what person cleans their dishes to put them in the dishwasher? (If you do, please refrain from commenting on this blog post. Because, 1. You will totally throw me under the bus with my husband. And 2. There is something completely wrong with you and I will call the police and have you arrested for stalking. Or OCD behavior. Or something. . .)
So this same conversation would take place every couple of months.
And yesterday was my breaking point.
Because I could see the gunk all built up in the bottom of the dishwasher. In the part that you have to take apart to get to. And I knew that was abnormal. It looked totally gross. I would have taken a picture for all of you to see, but I didn't want you to be disgusted by the picture and never visit my blog again.
So this morning, shortly after my lovely husband left for work, I tried running a short cycle with vinegar and baking soda to get it all cleaned out. No dice. Nope. It was going to have to come apart.
So I went online and found a wonderful website that showed me how to take it apart. I would tell you what it was, but I've already deleted it out of history so Jamey won't know what I was up to while he was at work. Oopsie. Did I just admit that?
Yep, so anyway, I proceeded to dismantle my entire dishwasher. And when I got the last screw off that held the filter top thingie in place. . .well let's just say I didn't feel so good. It was so gross. And I started cleaning it out and that's when I knew that the people who lived here before me? They NEVER scraped their dishes. Not ONCE. And in fact, they liked to just put EVERYTHING in the dishwasher. Because I found glass. I found stickers. I found pins. And the "piece de resistance" (please say that with a French accent)? CHICKEN BONES. WHOLE CHICKEN BONES. And THAT, my friends, is NOT normal.
So I got it allllllll, cleaned out, including sucking out the water that stayed standing in the bottom of it because it was so clogged up with CRAP. I had to get that out with a turkey baster. Uh huh. It took forEVER.
But I just ran another cycle of dishes through and guess what? MUCH better.
I'm so proud of myself!
Unless it breaks. And then, I don't know how that happened. And if Jamey finds this post and it breaks? Then someone hacked my blog and wrote this.
And again - I have an AWESOME husband. (That part, I TOTALLY wrote.)
Happy Day folks!
PS - I suppose it also doesn't help that I talked about this on Facebook.
PPS - What if those weren't chicken bones after all?