I have breakfast bar in the kitchen with one of those goofy corner cabinets. It is a huge cabinet, but essentially useless because it’s only two feet wide, yet it’s about ten feet deep.
When we first moved in, I figured it was a perfect place to put my odd small appliances. You know all those gadgets that you got as gifts, in my case mainly wedding gifts that you don’t use enough to have on the counter taking up valuable real estate.
You never know I might want to dazzle the kids with “gourmet” waffles, so just in case I keep the waffle maker handy. Into the corner cabinet it went. Along with the waffle maker, I stashed the miniature blender, and those cute little ramekins I couldn’t resist at Pier 1 into the cabinet. Oh yeah and my collection of Tupperware I kind of shoved it in there and hoped it wouldn’t multiply while I wasn’t looking.
Over time, everything migrated to the back of the cabinet, where it is unreachable unless you practically climb into the cabinet. Which I am not doing, I saw that movie and I know it doesn’t end well.
Actually, the cabinet reminds me of a black hole, you put something in it and it may or may not come out the other side. I’ve lost some good Tupperware to that cabinet. Oddly enough, whatever lives in the cabinet dimension doesn’t make waffles.
A few days ago, I opened the cabinet, as I do ten times every day, and the top hinge gave out. When I say gave out I mean it completely disintegrated. Who knew metal could do that.
Anyway, good news it missed my foot, bad news on its way down it ripped the bottom hinge out of the door. I haven’t found a replacement hinge yet. So, what I have is a very large deep, dark cave with no door that is at floor level.
The cats love their new secret headquarters. I think they’re converting it to condominiums.
That same day, a few hours later I heard water running in the bathroom. I went in to check it out. Since I didn’t see any faucets running I did what anyone would do in that situation I opened up the toilet tank? Sure enough, the tank wasn’t refilling properly.
I touched the float-I swear all I did was poke it-and it ripped right off the column. I just stood there watching the float bob away on the current for a minute wondering what I was going to do now. They sure, as hell, didn’t cover this kind of stuff in the home economics course I took.
I have three kids, having a toilet out of commission simply isn’t an option. Yay, they make repair kits for just this situation.
What a day. Now I know how Godzilla felt as he rampaged through Tokyo. For a few hours after that, I was afraid to go near the kids or animals for fear of causing bodily harm.
I know I sound accident prone or unaware of my own strength-I ripped a door right off its hinges, a cabinet door but still-but really it just a case of being the last person to use something.
Oh, who am I kidding I am the only person to use it. I mean really do you think the kids are putting the Tupperware away. Same with the toilet tank, even if the kids did notice the water running would I want them to open up the tank. Although, could they do any more harm than I did?
Jennifer Flaten lives where the local delicacy is fried cheese, Wisconsin. She writes about family life, its amusing or not so amusing moments. "At least it's not another article on global warming," she says. Jennifer bakes a mean banana bread and admits an unusual attraction to balloon animals and cup cakes. Busy preparing for the zombie apocalypse, she stills finds time to write "As I See It," her witty, too often true column. "My urge to write," says Jennifer, "is driven by my love of cupcakes, with sprinkles on top. Who wouldn't write for cupcakes, with sprinkles," she wonders.
Click above to tell a friend about this article.