Wesley Mitchell and the Chamber of Secrets

We did it! We survived the Thanksgiving weekend and it was a lot of fun, actually. We had dinner with Wes’ family on Thursday, spent Friday doing housework and yard work, helped with the baby shower on Saturday, and then ate dinner with my family on Sunday. It was busy but very pleasant all around.

It looks like the next few weekends are apt to be as busy as the last one. We are having dinner with Wes’ family on Saturday to celebrate his brother’s 30th birthday and then on Sunday we are having some friends over for dinner. They are vegetarians and I’m excited to cook for them because I’ve found some tasty recipes that I’ve never gotten to try out before (owing to Wesley’s strict adherence to a meat-centric diet). We still have to figure out when we’re going Christmas shopping so that’s been giving me a bit of a headache. It seems like time goes quickest when you have the most to accomplish!

In spite of all the crazy-busy, I have a tale I would like to tell. An epic tale of a sink, a bowl, and one man’s quest to appease his wife. It was Wednesday night. I had just gotten home and walked into the kitchen. The puppy, frenetic with glee as usual, occupies my attention for the first few minutes I’m home. After appeasing his manic desire for affection I turn and behold my husband. Crestfallen, bemused, he’s standing in front of the sink with his wet hands in front of him and chagrin painted across his face.

I, being the grand mistress of subtlety that I am, fail to notice and just go upstairs and change. I come back downstairs and ask him how his day was. He then regales me with a story about how, in the throes of cleaning up his Mac n’ Cheese mess, he was surprised to find that physics is funny in our kitchen and sometimes glass can explode for no reason at all. He was washing a small glass bowl when it unexpectedly exploded in his hand. He wasn’t injured, thank goodness, but the glass cascaded down into the garbage disposal and had jammed the motor.

At first, I was nonplussed. I asked him, “How did it explode? Were you angry with it? Did you bang it into something? How does a structurally sound glass bowl just *kaboom!* all over the sink?” Neither of us having the answers, I make dinner and he goes to his computer to attempt to find a solution.

Fast forward to two hours later. Having just washed the dishes using the little food trap thingie in the sink I realize how much of a pain it is to not be able to use the garbage disposal. So, I turn to Wes with a desperate plea, “Please, honey, fix my sink!”. He sighs and resigns himself to the thousand-years long legacy of men who fix things for their wives.

After perusing the repair manual he realized that we were lacking the special tool necessary to unlock the Chamber of Secrets (also known as the compartment that houses the motor of the garbage disposal). Not to be deterred, he examined every tool we own and fashioned the perfect tool using the disparate parts that are scattered throughout our house. After creating this special tool he laid down under the sink with his feet and legs just sticking out and he fixed that sucker. Just like that, BAM! Problem solved.

Our garbage disposal issued a challenge and Wes not only answered that challenge but he OWNED that challenge. Broken Sink: 0 Handiman Wes: 1. Heck yes.

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