Yesterday! The Kitchen! Hubby “helps” me.
While I send a query letter, post on Facebook, twitter—you know, the social media stuff—Hubby loads the dishwasher and turns it on.
Wonderful, yes? The kitchen is cleaned—not too tricky since we had a Costco meal—the counters are germ-free—and least that’s the claim on the spray bottle.
Tappity-tap-tap-tap. My fingers on the keyboard.
Rumble. Grumble. Splish-splash. Dishwasher noises.
Ten minutes later…
Lovely white suds are billowing out from under the dishwasher. 
“Oh-oh,” Hubby says. “I can’t believe I did that.”
The moment those words leave his mouth—I KNOW! “What did you put inside the dishwasher?” I’m afraid to look. (Actually, I lie. I’m afraid I’ll have to clean it up.) How does one clean soap bubbles, anyway?
“Not my fault. Somebody put the dishwashing liquid under the sink. It’s never under the sink. Who put the bottle under the sink?”
Um…the same person who sneaks into the laundry room to remove ONE sock from the dryer…the same person who leaves the door unlocked, the window open…the same person who hides the remote and the dog’s leash. The elusive Nobody. ( I have teenagers, so they’re always good to blame)
I digress.
Hubby opens the dishwasher and it’s FILLED with iridescent bubbles—they might even be described as pretty if it weren’t for the mess involved.
As I write this, the dishwasher is going through yet another rinse cycle. And soap suds are still on the floor.
The dishwasher liquid vs dishwashing liquid incident reminds me of when:
Not for automatic dishwashers.
- I grabbed the Windex instead of hairspray (the smell clued me in)
- I dropped a gallon of liquid detergent in the laundry room ( took weeks to scrape up the soapy residue)
- I washed a load of clothes with a tube of lipstick ( everything was ruined)
- I made coffee (left the kitchen) but forgot to put the carafe under the spout
- I spend 10 minutes searching for my reading glasses when they’re on top of my head
My list could go to infinity and beyond!!!
What silly things have you done? Lately.
