I am going to be honest, this may be the most outlandish title for a blog post. It will take some story telling and a lot of explanation to get to why I chose this title, but I sincerely promise that it makes sense.
Let me first start by saying that we make our dog her own food. She gets rice, eggs and chicken mixed together for each meal and she LOVES it. So on this fateful Tuesday night, I was trying to get ahead of the game and make her food early because we tend to run out right before she needs to eat. Apparently, that was not the best idea.
I was pretty exhausted and still had to go to the gym, so after I fed her, I put the rice in water and then turned on the burner and left it to cook. Nothing unusual about that right? I went upstairs to change my clothes and love on the dog, and before I knew it (probably 40 minutes later..ooops) I heard the smoke detectors going off all through our house. Clearly I booked it downstairs, worried that there was an actual fire.
There was no actual fire, BUT the wall of smoke I hit was something else.
This is where everything goes down hill and many, MANY mistakes were made.
I am freaking out and run to the stove, flip off the burner and grab the rice off of it. Smart choices so far, am I right? I then run to the sink, and dump the uncooked if not partialy on fire rice down the garabage disposal which I thought was a BRILLIIANT idea. I turn on the water and start running the disposal, only it doesn’t do what I was hoping it would.
Some of the rice goes down, but then the disposal stops and makes this AWFUL gurgle sound. Not understanding why it did that, I turn it off then flip it back on again.. and again.. and again... and again.
The rice and water start backing up... on both sides. The disgusting water filing up higher and higher, with rice floating all around it.
It finally stops filling up but now it won’t drain. One side will almost empty but the other side almost over flows, then the same thing happens on the other side.
Fast forward to a half hour later, when Chance walks in with me plunging the actual living daylights out of our sink... with our bathroom plunger... singing along to One Dance by Drake and half praying it drains at the same time.
This was Chance's reaction when he walked through the door.
To say that he wasn't a little ticked off would be an understatement. We spent an hour trying to get it unclogged.
Then we gave up.
We put in a maintenance request to have them take care of it the next day. It took five hours, two men, and three different pieces of equipment to get it back to working again. I was so grateful to not only live in an apartment where we don't have to pay to have people fix things, but also to the men for not judging me while I explained what happened.
So a couple days later, I looked at Chance and asked if he still loved me with all of his heart. His response: My love for you is kitchen sink deep. (DAWWWWW HOW CUTE.) He then told me to never do it again.
I haven't yet...