Saturday, August 29, 2009

Why I Love Geoff, or The story about the maggots

About two weeks ago, I went to pour half and half into my coffee except the half and half stayed at the bottom of the carton and did NOT pour into my coffee.

I tried dumping the whole thing into the sink and what came out can best be described as "cottage cheese", which was odd since first of all it was supposed to be half and half and second of all it wasn't set to expire for like another 5 days.

I opened the fridge again and noticed it DID feel somewhat balmy in there.

And then I realized our fridge was obviously broken. I used my thermometer to check the temperature and it was 60 degrees.

SIXTY DEGREES! And full of the barbecued chicken Geoff had made the day before that I was SO LOOKING FORWARD TO EATING for lunch that day.

I went the Internet and found out that -- no -- you're not supposed to eat chicken that's been held above 40 degrees. That's not even close. Damnit. I JUST WANT MY CHICKEN!

I called three places before I was able to reach a repairman to come out and take a look at it THAT DAY. He came out and promptly told me that our automatic defroster wasn't functioning because of a broken sensor.

He defrosted it with a heat gun (basically a MANLY hair dryer) and told me that we would be good for 7 - 10 days and that should give him enough time to get the part and come back to replace it.

Okay. Fine.

The Manly Hair Dryer had done its job and all the ice that was on the coils in the freezer was a lake on the kitchen floor, so I grabbed the BIG towels we got in Maui and used them to sop up the water and -- like I do with all dirty kitchen towels -- just tossed them into the garage to be washed when I do towel laundry again, which is often because Phoebe uses at least two a day when we wipe her down post-mealtime.

I threw away all the stuff that could have potentially spoiled. EXCEPT the chicken. I was on STRICT ORDERS from Geoff not to throw it away. Because Geoff told me he would eat it.


He said "I don't care, it's NOT BAD!"

This is the man who thinks that ALL FOODS give him gas. ALL OF THEM. I make salad, he farts, he says "Oh that dinner you made me gave me gas!" I say "SALAD!?" and he says "OF COURSE SALAD!". I make baked chicken and green beans and he farts and he says "Man, that dinner you made" and I say "There's no way you're farting from DINNER! That has to be from LUNCH!" and he says "No! Chicken! Chicken and green beans!? TOTALLY gives me gas."

Oddly he NEVER gets gas from eating macaroni and cheese or Burger King.

I was secretly hoping he would get salmonella to prove I was right about him NOT eating it. And then while cutting the chicken for his salad that night, he nearly sliced off the tip of his finger, causing me to go to the store to find a NEW HUSBAND because he was obviously going to die from flesh-eating bacteria.

He got neither salmonella nor flesh-eating bacteria.

So our fridge was working and even if it was going to break again, we weren't worried because we do have a second fridge in the garage (that mostly holds all our sins: Tecate, ice cream, Kraft American slices, etc.)

Then a week passed and I got a call from the repairman who told me that he JUST found out the part wasn't going to even be SHIPPED until the 28th and that our fridge was sure to go out before then. But, working fridge in the garage! No problem!

That's when he said "Well, I'd recommend calling Idler's (local appliance place) and asking them if you can order the part, here's the part number" and he gave me the part number to order it.

Now, I have NO IDEA WHY this Mr. Magoo repairman (he had hair in his ears, people) couldn't just call them and order it himself, but I figured he was a quirky repairman guy and -- you know -- whatever. What's ONE MORE phone call on my list of things to do?

Sigh. He told me to call him and let him know what was decided (if I was able to order the part or if he was going to have to order it from his people).

I called Idler's Tuesday and ordered the part ($20 including shipping) and I called the repairman to let him know I ordered it and it should be here by the end of the week and I'd call again to let him know when it got here so he could put it in for us.

On Thursday, Geoff and I went to Costco and Farmer's Market so our fridge and freezers were BOTH fairly packed full of foodstuffs.

On Friday -- HOORAY! -- the part arrived.

Five minutes later, I called the repairman and got an answering machine. An hour later I got a callback from the secretary telling me that the repairman -- whoops -- forgot to tell me that he was GOING ON VACATION and wouldn't be back until "Wednesday maybe ... but he might stay until Friday, I don't think he even knew".



I said "Okay well, yeah, um, I guess we'll just use our outside fridge once the broken one goes out again, and just call me when he gets back ... from ... his ... vacation."

At that point my eyes were rolling so far back into my head I can actually STILL see 360 degrees right now.

Because it was around 3 o'clock in the afternoon when she called, I figured I'd call another repairman on Monday, tell them I had the part and ask them to just come install it for us.

On Friday evening when I went to make Phoebe a scrambled egg -- while drinking a Tecate and telling Geoff "Man, NOTHING better than a cold beer on a Friday night!" as I stirred the meatballs and marinara for his meatball sandwich, and went to cut the butter for Phoebe's egg ... wait. What's this? The butter was particularly soft when I cut into it.

Oh shit.

Soft butter.

Fridge broken.


Okay, I knew how to fix it -- Geoff and I became a well-oiled machine!

I told him how the repairman took off the back panel last time and used his Manly Hair Dryer to defrost it and then it worked again!

And we moved food to the outside fridge and freezer, and I fed the baby her eggs and Geoff grabbed my hair dryer from upstairs and we were well on our way (except Geoff's meatball sandwich was put on hold mostly because he was unable to devote himself to eating it at that moment and I had to make the baby's dinner because she was already in her high chair and TOTALLY hungry).

And he said "We better get some towels to soak up the water" and I said "Oh! I still have the towels in the garage from last time because I haven't washed them yet! They'll work!"

And we grabbed them and set them up half in the freezer and half on the floor around the freezer.

And then pretty much everything in our lives was ruined.

The baby was crying because her eggs were too hot to eat still and I couldn't just put them in the freezer for a minute like I normally do BECAUSE IT WAS UNPLUGGED! And then she started crying again because she was done eating and she hates the sound of the blow dryer Geoff had set up to blow on the ice without his holding it, and he took her out of her high chair without wiping off her hands and face.

I had grabbedthe blow dryer to melt the remaining bits of ice and when I turned it off, I noticed it was STILL GOING.

Mostly because it was ON FIRE.

Burning smell, unhooking the cord from the freezer shelf it was wrapped around when Geoff jerry-rigged it so we wouldn't have to hold it for 15 minutes to defrost everything.

Trying not to electrocute ourselves OR the dirtiest baby in the world.

I put the baby in her pack and play where she screamed heartily and plugged in the fridge.

The fan wasn't working (the repairman had told me the fan on the inside of the fridge will be blowing cool air if it's working).



So Geoff suggested I pour hot water over the coils inside.


I poured about 12 cups of water over them and water started coming out like CRAZY, so I grabbed the towel to sop it up and




(sorry mom, but that's what I said)



Have you seen maggots, people?

Because they're not just disgusting sounding, they're disgusting LOOKING and I can FEEL THEM CRAWLING ON ME RIGHT NOW.

Until that moment, I had only had 2 experiences with maggots.

The first was my elementary school friend Sandra calling me "Maggot" because, I guess, "Meghan" ... "Maggot" ... it was just a nickname and that nickname lasted so long that I bet if she added me as a friend on Facebook the first thing she'd post on my page would be "What's up, Maggot?"

And I hadn't ever really THOUGHT about what that meant in REALITY until I had my own place and I didn't rinse out a bowl of chili for a couple of days and then went to wash dishes (no dishwasher so sometimes dishes sat around a couple of days) and saw it CRAWLING with white worms.


I threw the bowl away.

I am not kidding. I had 4 black bowls from Target that probably cost me about $10 and I said "I don't need this bowl that badly" and I threw it away and started pouring so much bleach all over everything in my kitchen that I'm fairly certain there's enough remnants coursing through my blood that it probably caused Phoebe's 4th nerve palsy.

Sorry, Phoebe.

May you NEVER have to deal with maggots in your life.

Bear in mind a couple of things: It was 107 degrees here yesterday and our a/c is broken.

So Geoff is now going around the kitchen with paper towels, trying to kill them, I started the washing machine on FUCKING HOT WATER (there's a setting that reads that, I swear) and said "I'm throwing these in NOW" and grabbed the towels using almost NO surface area on my fingers JUST IN CASE OF MAGGOTS getting on me and dropped them into the washing machine.

Geoff is bent over holding neatly-folded paper towels (not wads, neatly-folded squares), stabbing at the floor going "THEY WON'T DIE! THEY'RE IMPOSSIBLE TO POP!"

And I'm putting on shoes and grabbing the baby (screaming still because WHAT IS GOING ON IN THERE?) and stepping on them and pointing them out to Geoff.


And the baby wants down and she wants to go crawl all over the floor with the maggots and the dried banana and Geoff is going "WE HAVE TO CLEAN MORE OFTEN!" and I said "It's NOT the kitchen! It's the TOWELS! I have NO IDEA why they wanted to be on them!"

And Geoff picks up the rest of the maggots and gets a determined look in his eye and says "I am going to replace that part" and I showed him where it went and he DID IT -- HE REPLACED THE PART!

I gave the baby a bath and came downstairs and it was fixed.

And then Geoff took a shower, while I entertained the baby and then when he was done, I went back into the kitchen to finish making his meatball sandwich and I kept seeing maggots still (for the rest of my life. maggots. everywhere.) so I told him to keep the baby occupied so I could sweep and mop.

Did he keep the baby occupied? No. So I grabbed his meatball sandwich, slapped it down on the coffee table, grabbed the baby and said "YOU HAVE TO DEAL WITH HER! I HAVE TO MOP!"

I finished mopping, I took a VERY COLD shower and I started the washing machine a 2nd and 3rd and 4th time.

I am NOT taking ANY chances.

I started it again this morning, too. Hot water. Warm rinse.

So the floor is mopped, the fridge works again and when the repairman calls after getting back from his vacation I'm going to get to be all "Oh yeah, my husband already fixed it -- did I forget to call?"

Oh and our second anniversary present? You know, cotton? I'm gonna get us more towels because I am never going to be able to use those again.


royalflax said...

Amazing! Two comments... that friggin' part broke on our fridge 3 times in 2 years, so it is good that Geoff can fix it. Secondly, Thomas O'Brien cotton towels from Target, 9.99, reviews claim they are better than Nordy towels... bought them a week ago and have been in fluffy cotton heaven ever since- now I have to find good lotion since I am showering so often!

jen prince said...

Cant stop laughing! Life is funny sometimes, even if it takes a while to set in.

Annie said...

Hole. Lee. Shit.

OK, when I read the part about Geoff saying, "WE need to clean more," I laughed (because all married women know that when their husbands say something like that it means YOU need to clean more, 'cuz they don't/will never), but he totally redeemed himself when I read he FIXED!! the fridge! Go Geoff!!

Unknown said...

Oh GEEZ! Oh man. Oh geez! I am SOO sorry. That is just gross, so nasty. I'm SO sorry! What a terrible event. It's so hard when chaos ensues and the baby is screaming. Sorry baby, chaos first! Oh man. I caught myself laughing, making "shocked" noises, and laughing somemore. I'm glad it's all better, and ya, I'd be giving that repair man a piece of my mind when he calls back. GEEZ!