We’re (almost) cookin’ with gas

Nothing is ever easy here in the Vanech household. If it can go wrong, it will.

Today was a big day and not because the weather folks were screaming all day about possible tornadoes this evening. Today marked the arrival of our new kitchen appliances, bought not because we were feeling flush but because the old ones had gone on strike.

The odyssey began back in May with the death of Basil’s beloved lawn mower, and spread the next morning to the coffee maker. In quick order, other appliances followed. The dishwasher that had been phoning its duties in for sometime really copped an attitude and I suddenly found myself hand-washing the “clean” dishes.

The oven refused to heat, filling the house with an acrid odor instead. And, well, the microwave door had been hanging by a thread for some time.

It goes without saying that we appreciated the mutiny so soon after the fresh paint, new carpet and sofa for the den. As usual, our stars were aligned — just not in the right direction. (And if we had any doubt about we were stood in the universal pecking order, my car made sure to set the record straight by racking up a hefty maintenance punch list in the midst of it all.)

Anyway, I worked from home today, one eye on the clock, waiting for the arrival of my new toys.

Yes, once it would have been stiletto peep toes, a new outfit, fresh nail varnish or jewelry making my heart go pitty-pat. Today, I was reveling in the promise of clean dishes and cooked food.

Of course the appliances were delivered late in the afternoon and when I left to teach Jazzercise, the men were (I thought) putting the finishing touches on the dishwasher installation while Basil asked them a million questions. So excited was I that I flubbed a couple of the routines. I even invited the whole class to come home with me for a gander at all the stainless steel, even if it does make the rest of the kitchen look like a poor stepchild.

So you can imagine my surprise to get home and find … dirty dishes in the sink.

Despite a couple hours work, the men were not able to get the dishwasher working. They will be back sometime tomorrow.

You’ll excuse me now while I commune with the rubber gloves and Palmolive.