Suds… So Many Suds…

Oooooooohhhhh…. Craaaaaaaap…

I fancy myself a smart person. I don’t mean to brag, but an IQ test online once told me I was a genius. The same website also told me which Power Ranger I am (The red one) and what food I was most like (A gyro), so it may not have been a real IQ test. I like to think it was, though.

Despite my unofficial genius status, I occasionally do stupid things. I will find myself looking at the end result of one of my many life activities and saying “Oooohhhhhh… craaaaaaaaaap…” This happens more than I care to admit.

The latest was last night.

My wife has recently enrolled in graduate school. This means that she is often gone in the evening, leaving me to tend to things that I don’t normally take care of. Knowing this, last night I decided to do the nice husbandly thing. Knowing that she was going to be home late and that both of us enjoy eating on a nightly basis, I set out to cook us dinner.

I heated up a pan as some chicken defrosted. While the microwave spun in circles, I looked around the kitchen. It was a pit. It looked like the place dirty dishes go to die. They were everywhere. Bowls and forks and cups just piled in the sink waiting for a spot in the dishwasher.

“I should multitask,” I said to myself. “That is what a good spouse would do.”

I jammed as much as I could into our dishwasher and reached under the sink. Grabbing the bottle of soap, I filled the dishwasher and started it. Then I remembered: at 7 o’clock on Thursdays, “Community” comes on. I turned on the TV and watched about thirty seconds before turning back around.

There, in the middle of our kitchen, sat a pile of foam. Bubbles were pouring out of our dishwasher. It was like the foamy water looked at the dishes and decided it had something better to do right then.

Running into the kitchen, I turned off the washer. That’s when I noticed the bottle. This wasn’t dish DETERGENT. This was dish SOAP. Apparently, dish soap foams up quicker than detergent.

How do you rectify a dishwasher filled with foam that is going to continue to spew bubbles? I stood there staring at the pile. Maybe if I turned it back on…

As soon as the door shut, the bubbles on the floor doubled in size. I stopped it, knowing that if it continued, I would probably drown in my own kitchen. At the very least, I would have a sizeable mess to deal with.

I stared at the dishwasher. And stared. And stared. I don’t know what I was hoping would happen. Maybe the magical dishwasher fairies would hop out and say, “It was all a joke! We got you! You’ve been fairied, sucker!” Surprisingly, the dishwasher did not help me out in this way.

After turning it on and off two or three more times, I came to the realization that this was not going to work. I opened up the dishwasher to see that the entire bottom was filled with an exponentially growing froth. Of course I knew that this was how soap was. I use it on a daily basis in the shower. For some reason, though, it just did not add up.

Using the tools at hand, I did the next logical thing. Grabbing a cup, I began to scoop the foam out of the bottom of the dishwasher, dumping it in the sink next to me. This is a great plan, I thought. It really was, at least until the sink filled up. With a full sink, I moved on to scooping it into a bucket. Five minutes later, I was standing in the middle of a foamy mess, foamy cup in one hand, bucket of foam at my feet, sink completely full of bubbles. And the dishwasher was not even close to empty.

That’s when my genius kicked in. Hey, I thought, I have a toilet. I can put the bubbles in the toilet, flush it, and they will ALL go away! I tracked bubbly footprints across the apartment, dumping bucket after bucket into the toilet, flushing away a year’s supply of soap foam. If they were listening closely, my neighbors would have assumed that either I had the worst case of food poisoning ever or I had 50 of my closest friends over for a peeing party. “Honey! The neighbor just went to the bathroom for the 35th time! We might need to call an ambulance for him soon!”

Finally, 40 minutes later, I was down to a minimum amount of soap in the bottom of the dishwasher. I began to run it again, hoping it would drain the water out, leaving the dishwasher empty. My chicken had long since thawed, hanging out in what was surely a microwave full of E. Coli.

That’s why we had Wendy’s for dinner.

The lesson in all of this is very simple: don’t leave me home alone to do chores. Terrible things will happen and I will just make it worse. On the bright side, the area directly in front of our dishwasher is super clean.

You have to be pretty smart to find that bright side.



10 thoughts on “Suds… So Many Suds…

  1. Pingback: Suds… So Many Suds… | Strawberryquicksand

  2. In fact, Nathan, your blog post amused me so much that I repressed it/pressed it/reblogged it (whatever that is called when I share your blog with my followers). 🙂


  3. I would have, as I do in most situations, run for my ipad and googled a way to thwart the bubble beast escaping the dishwasher. Of course by the time I did that the mess would be greeting the neighbours. Kudos to you for using good old fashioned brain power. Great post! I’m glad I saw the repost on strawberryquicksand!


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