Don't Sniff Me Until Further Notice

Who purchases the soap in your home?

Here in the Big House, the MIL has taken it upon herself to keep the soap stocked up. It’s greatly appreciated. Soap is one less thing to agonize over when doing the weekly shopping. She keeps us stocked with bar and liquid soaps. Regular and anti-bacterial. She also keeps up with our family toothpaste demands.

But lately things have gone slightly awry in the shower department. At least for me, that is. The current bar of soap doesn’t have a pleasant scent. I use it, but I ain’t crazy about it.

For over a month, I ignored the unpleasant bar of soap. It was there, but the handmade soaps that Jamie purchased for everyone EXCEPT me were readily available for me to use. They made me smell pleasant. I was a deliciously fragrant beast. A pleasure to sniff.

I wasn’t too crazy about one of them though. There were like little wood chips in the dang thing. I could feel them scratching my skin. I just got a feeling that the soap was making microscopic cuts and I can’t have that. It could lead to some kind of infection, right??

Jamie says that the little wood chips were actually pieces of oatmeal. But they didn’t look like any Quaker Oats that I’ve ever seen.

But now the fancy handmade soaps have come to a sudsy end and I’m left with that white bar of funk. Sure, I could check the MIL’s stash for a better smelling bar, but I’m a man dammit! I need to man up and use that bar until there are no more suds to produce.

I want to ask where she got the soap, but I’m afraid of her follow up questions. She CANNOT answer a question until she questions your question. And she takes EVERYTHING so damn personally. The slightest critique becomes a major stick for her craw to get stuck on. Then her little passive aggressive button gets pushed and she’s no longer purchasing the soap. And if soap doesn’t make it to my grocery list, then the wheels come off the train and things are majorly derailed.

My favorite mass-produced soap is Zest. But the MIL gets whatever the hell she’s gonna get from the Dollar General “sale bin”. So that bar of funky soap is probably called Sezt or Etsz. I don’t know.

Fear And Logic In Clemmons

I really need to get better on updating this thing. But I guess that life hasn’t given me too much to complain about lately. That’s about all I really do on this award-winning blog. Right?

There’s an issue happening that needs exorcising. It involves The MIL and a GE Dishwasher.

A few weeks ago, The MIL alerted me to a problem with the dishwasher. She pointed out that the dishes weren’t being cleaned and they were bone dry. She said, “They don’t look like they’ve even been washed.”

I gave a visual inspection and noticed that there was dishwashing liquid on the bottom of the dishwasher. The compartment that you put the liquid in had come open and the liquid made its way down the door and settled onto the bottom. So yeah, there was absolutely no water action going on. I told The MIL about my observations and she said, “I didn’t do that! I put the detergent in the box like I always do. I don’t know why it’s on the bottom.”

Jesus Chrysler Dodge! Why does she immediately assume that someone is trying to put the blame on her…

“I know, Linda,” I said. “Somethings not right here. I’ll do a little research and see if it’s something that I can possibly fix. It’s going to be okay. The GE police will not be coming in to bust our heads or throw us in appliance jail.”

First of all, I called my father-in-law for his advice since he used to service dishwashers. He suggested checking and cleaning the float. I couldn’t locate the float. So, then I did some online research and found the float. I went in to try to free the float in order to clean it, but it wouldn’t unscrew. It wouldn’t even pull out. I didn’t pull too hard because I didn’t want to break it since I didn’t really know what I was doing.

I ran the washer again and water started flowing like it normally does. Perhaps my dumb luck has worked again!

So, I tell The MIL that it’s getting water again and we should try a run after loading it up. Three days later, I hear The MIL washing dishes in the sink. She’s been handwashing the dishes ever since.

“Why are you washing the dishes?” I asked. “We’re supposed to be filling the dishwasher to see if it’s working again like it should. And in order to fill the dishwasher, we should actually be putting the dirty dishes into the dishwasher to fill it and then let that joker do its thing through all the cycles to see if the problem has been solved. We’re not moving forward if we’re washing the dirty dishes. We can always wash them if the machine needs repairing. I’m not sure why this logic is being overlooked. Perhaps it’s about washing a lot of dishes at one time. I’m not sure. BUT… if it’s working, there’s no handwashing. Dig?”

We ran the machine again with the same results. It was time to call in the cavalry named Barry. Barry knows his stuff and in less than a half hour the float had been cleaned properly with actual know-how instead of some dumbass watching YouTube tutorials.

Barry was over late on Monday afternoon. We ran the dishwasher with the dirty dishes. They came out clean and warm just like they used to. There was much rejoicing. Dwarves sprang from the cupboards playing mandolins and singing celebration songs. We all held each other and jumped around as the dwarves smiled and jammed while fairies flew in circles above our heads. All was good once again!

I prepared a comfort dinner of soup and grilled cheese sandwiches last night for a Birthday eve celebration of sorts for Chigs. I spared no expense on the grilled cheese. Sharp cheddar on Sara Lee Artisano bread along with enough butter to produce a heart palpitation. Oh yeah, my grilled cheese sandwich is often requested in the house.

This morning as I’m feeding the dogs, I noticed something. All the bowls and utensils used in preparing the soup and grilled cheese sandwiches were handwashed and placed to the side of the sink to dry. So even with the cavalry named Barry fixing the issue AND clean dishes after the immediate post-fix wash, The MIL is STILL having issues with putting some trust in the dishwasher to do its job.

I don’t get it.

I don’t understand it.

But you know what?

I do not care. If she wants to waste her time... Fine. If she chooses to live her life in fear that the dishwasher will fail again, that’s her problem. If she misses a few minutes of some murder porn TV show, that’s on her. Not on me. Not on Barry. And certainly not on GE. I don’t get it. I don’t want to get it. There’s no real logic at work here and I’m done trying to swim against that particular current.