To all men: Do not give your wife a garbage disposal for any occasion

In four years of marriage, C and I have had very few disagreements. I can only remember two raise your voice kind of moments. One such disagreement was a couple of months in to the marriage…and I couldn’t tell you for the life of me the reason why. The other, I will NEVER forget.

I have a real problem with garbage disposals. It’s not a new thing. In my single days, I had a handy man on stand by to come to my rescue. James would come over to unclog the drain…no matter what time I called. I think it happened once a week. Clearly I am slow learner on this front. Old habits die hard and I still have a really hard time remembering that not EVERYTHING goes in the disposal…and you can’t just cram it all in. I get it…but sometimes when my mind is somewhere else or I am in a huge hurry, I start to cram. I can hear the sound of the disposal clogging as I write. It’s like finger nails down a chalk board. It starts as a hard charging grind then all of sudden it goes into a numbing mono sound. BZZZZZZZZ. Oh and what a mess it makes.

C. is fairly handy and in the early days would proudly scoot under the sink to fix the clog- doing his husband duty…super C. to the rescue. Keep in mind, James the handy man, whom I paid, was no longer an option because he lived in a different city. So on about the 6th clog in 6 weeks, C. had had enough. This wasn’t funny anymore. He warned me…next time you are doing it.  Oh how I wish I had listened, because on this clog, C. instructed me to put on the yellow gloves and roll my sleeves up. WHAT?  Say it isn’t so. You have got to be kidding me. I screamed. I cried. How could my husband expect me to do this nasty job? It’s a mans work.

Well….he stood his ground and instructed me as I disconnected the pipes and got all of the YUCK out. It really is quite nasty. I think this was a combo of ground egg shells and collard greens. Not a pretty site mixed together. And it goes without saying that I learned to be a garbage disposal pro.  No egg shells, no asparagus stalks, soup in small batches…all in moderation. I don’t really think I ever clogged it again.

So for our fourth anniversary, C. thought it would be “cute” to give me a high powered garbage disposal for the new addition. Though it is top of the line…serious horsepower and dual chambers, it is NOT an appropriate gift for ANY occasion.

Enough said. Men take note.

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