Ever since I bought my dishwasher many years ago, it has made a thunking noise and required an extra push to get the door to seal. Assuming it was made that way, I pushed and listened to the thunk. Events conspired to get it fixed last week, and I only had to make a turducken of myself.
My writing group was scheduled to meet at my house the next day and I needed to do a little bit of touch up cleaning. I pulled out my handy-dandy Swiffer© duster and began to dust. I poked that long handled gift from the cleaning fairies under, between and over dusty surfaces. I was so inspired that I even dusted things that had not been touched since the first Bush administration. The remaining dust appears to be from before the Stone Age, so I decided it should continue its progress toward making a new planet.
I had worked my way through the whole house and was finishing with the refrigerator top. I took a step back to better reach what was left. Wham! I was sitting on the dishwasher door and bottom rack. Colorful metaphors ensued. I just knew the appliance would need to be replaced.
Shifting my weight to stand and inspect the damage, I noticed a dinner fork was dangling from my left thumb. I pulled out the three embedded tines and headed for the bathroom to slap on a Band Aid©. There was a bright red trail along the way, looking like I had left melted, cherry popsicle drippings instead of bread crumbs to find my way back home.
Washing off the mess, I applied standard First Aid© and after taking a queasy break, I texted my daughter asking her to stop over when she had a chance to make sure I had bandaged it properly. She agreed to come a few hours later since she was currently babysitting her grandchildren.
I needed a shower badly. I could wash my body one-handed but not my messy hair, just dirt, not red stuff. I worked and worked to get a finger protector on my thumb. By the time I finally rolled it down to the thumb’s base, I was again leaking vital fluids. I cut off the original bandage and the protector.
After taking another queasy break, I rebandaged the turduken thumb. This time I added a vinyl glove and headed to the shower. Somehow I cleaned my body, but let me ask you this. Have you ever tried to shampoo and condition with one hand? I lathered here, then there, then another place, hoping all the hair was clean. Rinse and repeat the procedure with the wash-out conditioner. Toweling myself dry with one hand was another interesting experience. Then – how to apply leave-in conditioner? How much hair was actually covered is another good question.
A few hours later my daughter arrived, inspected the turducken thumb and drove to the closest drugstore and bought me some waterproof Band Aids©. She redressed the wound and prepared to leave. I asked her to check my dishwasher for damage because it was making new thunks and clunks. Inspecting the machine she found that a screw was missing. She replaced it and now the dishwasher closes properly with just a click.
© by Sharon Dillon, September 16, 2014
Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop, Southern Humorists, National Society of Newspaper Columnists, one of 14 stories published in The Book of Mom, booksyoucantrust.com, 20+ years experience writing for several newspapers and magazines.