I suppose it had to happen. Our day-early Valentine's celebration was going all too well. Doug had a good day at work, got out on time and arrived home with flowers in hand (too cute!). I'd cooked up a storm and the end result was well worth the effort. The wine was tart, crisp and refreshing, dinner was positively divine, dessert was indulgent and we were altogether fat and happy. Something had to go wrong.
After dinner, we'd retired to the bedroom to curl up with the 53rd Annual Grammy Awards and whatever we had recorded on the DVR. But, about halfway into Muse's performance of Uprising, a cacophony of clatter rose up from the kitchen below. Something did not only go bump in the night, it was a full on crash! bang! boom! We jumped up from the bed and went downstairs to investigate. It was decided that I'd check on the dishwasher and Doug would head down to the basement to make sure the puppies hadn't gotten into any trouble (a much more likely scenario than the dishwasher imploding). I checked, rechecked and reorganized the dishwasher ensuring it would have a smooth wash cycle and Doug emerged from downstairs reporting that all was quiet on the basement front. Perplexed at finding nothing amiss, we returned upstairs, finished watching the Grammy's and had all but made it through Desperate Housewives on DVR when Doug had a craving for some more of my pulled pork ravioli . We stood in the kitchen, happily munching on cold ravioli by refrigerator light and chatting about the awards show winners (Did Arcade Fire really deserve Album of the Year? Honestly, in 10 years, who will have made a bigger impact on music and who will people remember more? Arcade Fire? Or Lady Gaga? Just sayin'). Anyway, satisfied with the ravioli (and a chocolate covered strawberry or 2), we were about to head back upstairs when Doug found himself standing in a massive puddle in front of the garbage.
At this point, despite my earlier fruitless investigation, I was positive the dishwasher had sprung a leak and was set to stop it, mid-cycle, and resign myself to doing dishes by hand (unheard of!) when Doug found the true culprit. It seemed the hullabaloo we'd heard earlier was not the dishwasher imploding, but the kitchen sink! The sink had somehow unglued itself from the counter and had fallen clear through the opening and into the cabinet below, taking with it all the dirty dishes that hadn't fit in the dishwasher! A slow steady stream of water was trickling down into the cabinet, onto the cleaning supplies and out onto the floor. We mopped up the flood, emptied the cabinet of the soggy, waterlogged cleaning supplies and after determining that the drain pipe from the dishwasher was most likely damaged by the falling sink, piled the remaining dirty dishes in (where else?) the bathtub.
You'd think the destruction would end there. If only we were so lucky. Before going back upstairs for what we hoped would be the night, we trudged down to the basement for one final check on the puppies and found another puddle in the middle of the basement floor. Wearied by cleaning the kitchen and already frustrated, it was all too easy to just blame Rigby for peeing on the floor yet again, but closer examination of the puddle revealed no trace of a yellow tinge, so the little one was off the hook (this time). A glance to the ceiling and we knew the kitchen flood had made it's way down through the floorboards. Luckily (if there's any luck to be had in this mess), Jonas' bed happened to be directly under the flood stream. So while the poor puppy essentially had a massive sponge for a bed (don't worry, I threw it away), it was our saving grace in minimizing the mess downstairs. A quick wipe of the floors and ceiling and we could (finally) call it a night. Dejected and thoroughly exhausted we returned upstairs, our inner OCD finding solace in the fact that at least now we had a matching set of appliance-less holes in the kitchen.
So, now we wait. For the granite guy and plumber to come assess the damage, for estimates and repair, for the kitchen to make it's way back to "normal". It's times like these though, when I know I won't be getting to the dishes immediately, that I am so thankful to have my Wolfgang Puck Stainless Steel Cookware Set - 18pc
. These pans can sit unwashed for days on end (not that I ever do that, of course) and they come clean with no more than a splash of hot water and the swipe of a soapy sponge.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have a tub of leftover Valentine's Day dishes to wash! *sigh*
After dinner, we'd retired to the bedroom to curl up with the 53rd Annual Grammy Awards and whatever we had recorded on the DVR. But, about halfway into Muse's performance of Uprising, a cacophony of clatter rose up from the kitchen below. Something did not only go bump in the night, it was a full on crash! bang! boom! We jumped up from the bed and went downstairs to investigate. It was decided that I'd check on the dishwasher and Doug would head down to the basement to make sure the puppies hadn't gotten into any trouble (a much more likely scenario than the dishwasher imploding). I checked, rechecked and reorganized the dishwasher ensuring it would have a smooth wash cycle and Doug emerged from downstairs reporting that all was quiet on the basement front. Perplexed at finding nothing amiss, we returned upstairs, finished watching the Grammy's and had all but made it through Desperate Housewives on DVR when Doug had a craving for some more of my pulled pork ravioli . We stood in the kitchen, happily munching on cold ravioli by refrigerator light and chatting about the awards show winners (Did Arcade Fire really deserve Album of the Year? Honestly, in 10 years, who will have made a bigger impact on music and who will people remember more? Arcade Fire? Or Lady Gaga? Just sayin'). Anyway, satisfied with the ravioli (and a chocolate covered strawberry or 2), we were about to head back upstairs when Doug found himself standing in a massive puddle in front of the garbage.
At this point, despite my earlier fruitless investigation, I was positive the dishwasher had sprung a leak and was set to stop it, mid-cycle, and resign myself to doing dishes by hand (unheard of!) when Doug found the true culprit. It seemed the hullabaloo we'd heard earlier was not the dishwasher imploding, but the kitchen sink! The sink had somehow unglued itself from the counter and had fallen clear through the opening and into the cabinet below, taking with it all the dirty dishes that hadn't fit in the dishwasher! A slow steady stream of water was trickling down into the cabinet, onto the cleaning supplies and out onto the floor. We mopped up the flood, emptied the cabinet of the soggy, waterlogged cleaning supplies and after determining that the drain pipe from the dishwasher was most likely damaged by the falling sink, piled the remaining dirty dishes in (where else?) the bathtub.
You'd think the destruction would end there. If only we were so lucky. Before going back upstairs for what we hoped would be the night, we trudged down to the basement for one final check on the puppies and found another puddle in the middle of the basement floor. Wearied by cleaning the kitchen and already frustrated, it was all too easy to just blame Rigby for peeing on the floor yet again, but closer examination of the puddle revealed no trace of a yellow tinge, so the little one was off the hook (this time). A glance to the ceiling and we knew the kitchen flood had made it's way down through the floorboards. Luckily (if there's any luck to be had in this mess), Jonas' bed happened to be directly under the flood stream. So while the poor puppy essentially had a massive sponge for a bed (don't worry, I threw it away), it was our saving grace in minimizing the mess downstairs. A quick wipe of the floors and ceiling and we could (finally) call it a night. Dejected and thoroughly exhausted we returned upstairs, our inner OCD finding solace in the fact that at least now we had a matching set of appliance-less holes in the kitchen.
So, now we wait. For the granite guy and plumber to come assess the damage, for estimates and repair, for the kitchen to make it's way back to "normal". It's times like these though, when I know I won't be getting to the dishes immediately, that I am so thankful to have my Wolfgang Puck Stainless Steel Cookware Set - 18pc
. These pans can sit unwashed for days on end (not that I ever do that, of course) and they come clean with no more than a splash of hot water and the swipe of a soapy sponge.Now if you'll excuse me, I have a tub of leftover Valentine's Day dishes to wash! *sigh*
Where's the pic of the broken sink? :) so love your cookware? I think I need a new set.
ReplyDeleteHa! I'll post a picture of the sink, just for you! I really do love my cookware...they're constructed well, they heat evenly, they are oven safe up to 400 degrees (not that that matters for me right now, but it's a nice feature!) and clean up is a breeze, even if you burn them! In my opinion, for the price, you can't get a better set. They aren't non-stick, but I prefer stainless anyway and with a little olive oil or Pam, they're just fine!
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