One day in January, I was loading the dishwasher. I had placed some heavy items towards the front of the bottom rack. The entire dishwasher tipped forward, out from the cabinet. It didn’t fall completely on the ground, the counter prevented that, but it tipped about 20 degrees.
My husband and I moved into this apartment in September. It’s the kind of place that makes a great first impression, but after you’ve lived in it for a bit, you realize that it was rather hastily slapped together. I took this as further evidence of that fact.
I looked in between the gap between the dishwasher and the counter top. Nothing seemed to be amiss, but to be honest, I probably didn’t know what to look for. I took out the heavy items, righted the dishwasher, and rearranged and reloaded the dishes so that the heavy items were in the back. I started it and waited, prepared to cut it off should the kitchen start to flood. It didn’t.
The dishwasher finished and I opened it up and left the dishes to dry while I went about my day. The dishwasher stayed in place.
I remember this happened on a snow day. My husband Ed was in England for work. It was the kind of thing I might have mentioned to him had I seen him later in the day, but I didn’t see him for about a week, and by that time I had forgotten all about it. It had seemed like a minor annoyance, not a crisis.
Monday, I was at work, had a spare second and decided to check my Gmail. There was copy of a work order Ed had submitted to the rental office.
Ed leaves for work after I do. He is often in the midst of cleaning the kitchen when I walk out the door.
I read over the work order. The glue securing the dishwasher had failed.
“Oh, yeah,” I thought. “He must have put some heavy items in the front. I should have told him about that.”
That night, I started to load the dinner dishes into the dishwasher.
“Don’t put the dishes in the dishwasher!” he said.
“Huh?” I said.
“Oh,” I said. “Right.”
I considered telling him that the glue failed back in January, and that the dishwasher had worked just fine since.
I decided against it.
The rental company hasn’t sent someone to fix the dishwasher. The work order is still open. We have been doing dishes by hand for almost a week.
I’ve considered coming clean about the dishwasher tipping back in January, but Ed knows a lot more about home maintenance and appliances than I do, and I know he’ll be upset that 1) I didn’t do anything about it back in January, and 2) I didn’t say anything about the January experience when the same thing happened to him on Monday.
I realize that if he reads this, I’m skunked. I don’t think that he will. But, Ed, my love, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry.
And I am sorry. I didn’t realize that it was a big deal, and then I kept quiet about it because I didn’t want to argue. I think we could safely use the dishwasher, but I’m too much of a wimp to bring it up now.
I worry a little about what that says about me and him and our relationship.
I hope it will be fixed soon. I hate doing dishes by hand.