Posted by: pendrops | August 11, 2006

dishwasher safe: top rack only

top_rack_only_2.jpg

“What’s that smell?”

“Hmm. Candles?” Jason answered from the dining room. We glanced around the living room for unruly flames or dripping wax.

“No. It smells like…oh, shit! The dishwasher! Something’s burning in the dishwasher!” I jumped off the couch and ran into the kitchen. Yanking the latch, I flung open the door to find our George Foreman grease tray sliced down the middle by the dishwasher’s heating element. Melting plastic oozed on top of the severed tray that now laid on the bottom of our dishwasher.

“I did it again,” I said, looking up at Jason, who had started laughing.

“What is it with you and these George Foreman trays?” he asked, still laughing.

Maybe it was the toxic fumes, but I wasn’t amused. Still I laughed, because it was sort of amusing.

After the first time, I should have learned: you don’t put skinny, light-weight plastic anything on the bottom rack of the dishwasher. The first time I did this, I melted one of Jason’s water bottle lids beyond recognition. I could have submitted the thing as a piece of art at the Frist and won an award, it was so perfectly mutilated.

The second time, I melted another unfortunate George Foreman grease tray. But we salvaged that one and still use it.

There would be no salvaging this tray.

While I fanned the air around to keep our smoke detectors from going off, Jason opened windows and turned on fans. We left the dishwasher door open so the noxious odor wouldn’t penetrate our clean dishes and we headed out to the deck.

The day had been hot – nearly 100 degrees – and we had no plans to spend anytime outside. But we couldn’t stay inside, our lungs wouldn’t let us. While on the deck, we read and talked and just sat…and then I noticed it. A full orange moon, creeping higher from behind the trees. It looked close enough to touch and hung so perfectly that it gave the shadowy clouds above it an amber hue.

Jason and I spent quite a lot of time watching the moon and the sky that night, and when we went back into the apartment a couple hours later, we had almost forgotten the dishwasher fiasco. But I imagine we’ll remember our unexpectedly perfect evening with the giant moon and each other.

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Responses

  1. Not much worse in this world than the smell of melting plastic. Well, maybe a jock strap full of cottage cheese. Or a bicycle helmet filled with Indian food. Or perhaps…

  2. Hi! It’s Susan – Jason’s cousin! And I love your website! How funny! The story was great! You are an interesting gal. I’ve been perusing your site and just really enjoying it. I went to Jason’s site and saw your blog so here I am. Thought I would check it out. So, I hear you are doing freelancing now. How’s that going? I’m so interested in that. That’s my fantasy life.

    Well, keep up the good writing. When I have more time, I will read more here.

    (Jason – let her get a dog! Come on! . . . or a cat. .. a cat would be good.)

  3. Hey Krista, there’s something to be said for microwaves and paper plates. And paper plates don’t usually end up burning in the dishwasher. 🙂


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