Or, hey bud, your nose is more than just a place to keep your finger.
Monday 7:30 AM, returning home from an early morning dog walk.
Scene: 2o-year-old son at kitchen table in the ‘I will never get used waking up early and commuting’ intern stupor, hunched over a bowl of cereal praying no one will speak. Not just to him, but at all. Husband preparing to make a smoothie.
Me: Um… don’t you guys smell burning plastic?
Danny: (silence, or at best an imperceptible grunt)
Me: Are you KIDDING me? (thinking about how the kitchen smelled oddly like we were manufacturing small plastic toys or making shrinky dinks.) Did anyone use the toaster oven or the micro this morning?
Gary: Not me.
Danny: (silence and fear that this line of questioning was not going to be short, only adding to his misery at an hour that is closer to his usual bedtime than one he has considered morning since high school)
Me: HELLOOO, no one smells this?! (now my eyes are starting to sting and the dog is coughing)
At this point I am somewhat convinced there is a direct correlation between possessing a penis and having no solid sense of smell. This realization, of course, comes from a woman who can smell an old sponge in your kitchen…
no matter how far away you live from here.
Gary: (opening the dishwasher) There you go!
And there, seared to the coil on the bottom of the dishwasher, sat the remains of a Tupperwear lid.
After using the requisite Jewish tool… the steak knife (which is an upgrade from the usual butter knife) we tossed around some brilliant ideas like using a razor blade and slicing the plastic off the coil, running another cycle to re-melt the sucker and peel it off while it is hot, or trying to ‘remove the coil’ ourselves.
Realizing that any of these would result in quadrupling the ultimate cost of the repair I called ‘my girls’ who always seem to have ‘a guy’ (why don’t I ever have a guy, I have lived her for 25 friggin years, I should have at least one guy).
I love Ralph. He can actually smell. AND he can fix!
I love a problem I can fix. Or at least that Ralph can.