Now you may be asking yourself why would I want to shred glass? And that boys and girls is a very good question and as a rule you don't - especially in your mom's garbage disposal with a house full of people.
Now of course the question is now - why would you do that? Well - silly goose - one does not do this with forethought and intent - no. We do this without thought and unconscious movement...trust me. We can also put this under the title, "Good deeds do not go unpunished."
Let me tell the tale... Breakfast the morning after Christmas, things are mellow, nothing scheduled generally a good vibe going, in a fit of being helpful I decided to load the dishes into the dishwasher... and the task was done with the last step dumping 9/10's of the uneaten oatmeal (ick put-pooie!) that the niece decided she didn't want. Now before I dumped it I checked the garbage disposal for silverware as I am guilty as the next of chewing up all manner of eating instruments that have slid down the happy slide to the chewing blades - aka the garbage disposal.
Dumped the oatmeal - turned on the water - flipped the switch to get ride of the water soaked oatmeal and suddenly! GRRRGRGRGRGRGRRR - hit the switch, father yelling, then mother yelled from upstairs "You're sister is in the shower - quit running the water!" She didn't hear the noise... we'll get to that later...
Now father rushes over and I start checking the (what I am now calling) the port of doom... between remnants of oatmeal I feel around and pull out - a shard of glass - wth? I dig around and more glass pieces, (getting the gist of the story now aren't you?) So I keep pulling hunks of glass out and then Dad tries to turn the disposal on again - now we have stuck gears sound (grrrrrr - oh so not good) so we dig around more between me and Dad and dig out more glass fragments.
Now at this point neither one of us has a clue what the heck WAS in this disposal - then I open the dishwasher and count... 1, 2, 3, crap. One of the shot glasses was missing - well not any more as it was in 6 billion little bitty chips embedded in my mother's garbage disposal - and it was clogging the works. What joy. So we dig around, we use the end of the plunger to try and unjam it - my Dad asks me to dig around more as my hands are smaller and I won't mention what this is doing to my Christmas manicure... but as I stand there digging out glass in muck down comes my mother and what to my father and my husband do - the finger pointing Benedict Arnolds? Yep - point their fingers right and me and say - in unison no less - "SHE DID IT." I will remember that boys - just you wait - I will remember...
Now we have to go through the entire explanation - then - good ol' mom she blames Dad for not putting them in the dishwasher or the other side of the sink or whatever... I was almost in the clear - almost until the dreaded - "did you check it?" Well - yeah for metal sticking up things... not glass sitting at the bottom of the muck things... sheesh.
But after a few choice football words hurled at my beloved husband and father, more glass plucking, more shifting and goading and praying it finally clicked back on and we all went on with our day - My father and husband laughing and pointing to the tune of "She did it" and me to the tune of I wasn't going to turn that darn thing on again... ever.
I will report later that day I broke off a nail that had been cracked previously... I wasn't happy and proceeded to show my father that broken nail at every opportunity... why yes it was my middle finger why do you ask?
More on picture day tomorrow... I need my beauty sleep.
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