Not my brightest moment
"Honey, I think the garbage disposal's broken," I whimpered, staring dejectedly at the brown muck that was obscenely backwashing into one compartment of his two-sided sink. Mr. T got up from the dinner table and came to my rescue. He fiddled with the disposal's on/off switch, stuck a chopstick down the drainage hole, ran some water, and determined that the culprit was a clog in the pipes under the sink.
We emptied out the shelves below the sink and a somewhat grumpy Mr. T placed a large pot under the pipes he was about to disassemble. He muttered his dislike for dirty sink water as he unscrewed the hinges on the pipe. I stood by the sink, feeling useless but ready to help when needed.
Upon unscrewing the pipe's hinge, a gush of brown muck splashed into the pot. Mr. T held it in place as I watched the water drain out of the sink. The pot was filling fast and we could tell that the volume of water still in the sink was larger than what the pot could handle. Mr. T turned to me with a look of urgency and said, "I'm going to pass the pot to you and I need you to empty it and give it back to me."
Happy to help, I gave him an energetic "OK!" and got into a crouching position to receive the slimy cauldron. The exchange went great, with Mr. T holding one hand to the pipe to stop the gush of water while I retrieved the pot from under the pipes. I stood up and very efficiently poured the smelly liquid into the other (unclogged) compartment of the two-sided sink.
Suddenly, from under the sink came the most painful, tortured "Nooooooooooo!!!", followed by a putrid flood of biblical proportions. Time stood still as the brown water covered my toes and my brain tried to comprehend what had gone wrong.
Mr. T stuck his head out from under the sink and looked at me with a combination of disbelief and despair in his blue-green eyes. He sat in a puddle of muck and shook his head.
Apparently, all streets lead to Rome. Or, in the language of kitchen sinks, all sink compartments lead to the same pipe.
"I thought you'd empty the pot onto the patio," he said, his voice deadly calm.
All I could say was: "Umm...Oops?"
We emptied out the shelves below the sink and a somewhat grumpy Mr. T placed a large pot under the pipes he was about to disassemble. He muttered his dislike for dirty sink water as he unscrewed the hinges on the pipe. I stood by the sink, feeling useless but ready to help when needed.
Upon unscrewing the pipe's hinge, a gush of brown muck splashed into the pot. Mr. T held it in place as I watched the water drain out of the sink. The pot was filling fast and we could tell that the volume of water still in the sink was larger than what the pot could handle. Mr. T turned to me with a look of urgency and said, "I'm going to pass the pot to you and I need you to empty it and give it back to me."
Happy to help, I gave him an energetic "OK!" and got into a crouching position to receive the slimy cauldron. The exchange went great, with Mr. T holding one hand to the pipe to stop the gush of water while I retrieved the pot from under the pipes. I stood up and very efficiently poured the smelly liquid into the other (unclogged) compartment of the two-sided sink.
Suddenly, from under the sink came the most painful, tortured "Nooooooooooo!!!", followed by a putrid flood of biblical proportions. Time stood still as the brown water covered my toes and my brain tried to comprehend what had gone wrong.
Mr. T stuck his head out from under the sink and looked at me with a combination of disbelief and despair in his blue-green eyes. He sat in a puddle of muck and shook his head.
Apparently, all streets lead to Rome. Or, in the language of kitchen sinks, all sink compartments lead to the same pipe.
"I thought you'd empty the pot onto the patio," he said, his voice deadly calm.
All I could say was: "Umm...Oops?"
Labels: mr. t
posted by Baja Babe at 6:52 PM
7 Comments:
LOL!!! THAT'S funny stuff!
The question is...who cleaned up?
This entry was rather comforting after my recent toilet debacle. At least it wasn't....toilet water.
Brilliant.
As a man who has occasionally had to endure similar situations with the woman whom I love with all my heart, I'm sure Mr.T must love you tremendously.
Glad to make you all laugh! :) Mr. T does love me (bless his patient heart), EVEN when I decided to clean up the mess with his prized collection of old, ratty t-shirts. Ahhh...That man's a trooper, what can I say??
LOL! I can just see you there all proud and helper bee like! LOL!
Too phunnie.
Tex
(Thank for the kind words the other day :-) )
LOL! I would of done the same thing...Nice blog you've got here!
Leigh Ann
tex - Oh yeah, I'm always eager to help! Hope you're doing better...
la - Nice to know I'm not alone, I mean, come on! Who knew the sink only had one pipe, right? :)
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