what the??

Once upon a time, our dear friend and houseguest M* returned a large jug of grape juice to the fridge. Instead of placing it in the milk compartment inside the fridge door (the preferred spot), he rested it on a shelf on its side. The next morning, I discovered juice had leaked down into the vegetable crisper and all over our carrots, broccoli and leeks.

Not wanting to blame our houseguest, I started to clean the fridge while quietly explaining the situation to my wife. We chuckled as I rinsed the removable shelves, thinking that M could not hear us through two rooms, background music, and running water. “I just heard my name,” he called and strode into the kitchen to our astonishment. M immediately figured out that he was the guilty culprit, apologized profusely, and declared that he would clean up his own mess. He took out the vegetable crispers and started washing them vigorously.

That was when our faucet hose broke. The protective metal sheathing came apart from the hose head and the sharp metal punctured the rubber hose. Water sprayed everywhere.

faucet broken

This is where I confess I never liked our kitchen faucet: the water dribbled weakly, there was no “scald protection”, and it was hard to press the button on top of the faucet to make it spray, etc. Yes, I had noticed there was a tear in the metal coil recently. It was on my kitchen mini-makeover to do list to be replaced, but I was hoping to limp along for a few more months. Now, it seemed, my hand was forced.

To be continued …

*Names have been disguised to protect those involved.