One mistake and one really poor choice turned my day from quite nice into total chaos.
It all started yesterday when I decided to make black beans for dinner. I forgot to start them in the morning, so I had to cook them on the stovetop instead of using my prefered method, the crockpot. I turned them down to low once they started boiling, and then completely forgot. Madeline and I took a little trip to the mall, and I didn't discover my mistake until we walked back in the front door and were welcomed by the horrible smell of scorched beans. I never leave home with the stove on! I don't know what I was thinking, or I guess not thinking!!! I'm lucky they didn't catch on fire.
This afternoon I watched two of the cutest boys we know. The kids were playing really well together, so I decided to take advantage of the situation and unload the dishwasher. I noticed the pan of burnt beans were still sitting in the sink, I'm sure still stinking up our apartment. I'd left them there the night before hoping Scott would deal with them, and I guess he thought the same thing about me. Our garbage can was full. This is where the poor choice comes in. I decided to put them down the disposal. That's what disposals are made for, right? I'm not sure why I didn't think about the past problems we've had with the disposal. Basically, it's really, really wimpy. I dumped the beans down little by little, and then I dumped half the pan in. That was the really dumb part. Of coarse, it clogged up. Nasty black gunk started bubbling back up into the sink. And then as I was messing with it , and getting black gunk all over my shirt and the counter, it started bubbling up into the other side of the sink.
At that point I realized that our apartment was really quiet. Too quiet. I know from growing up with triplets that quiet is usually a bad thing. I found the kids in the bathroom with makeup and toilet paper EVERYWHERE. I completely underestimated the amount of time it takes 3 kids to make a really big mess. My eyes were not off of them for more than 2 minutes!
After the boys left I had to get dinner started. I'd already made my easy meals for the week, and was only left with time consuming meals to choose from. I chose the least time consuming thing, which was homemade pizza. Dough and everything. Oy. I've been bad lately with stocking extra food. In the process of making pizza dough, Madeline and my kitchen were covered in flour and sprinkles. Yes, sprinkles. I'm not sure how that all happened, but the culprit was an almost 2 year old with a sweet tooth.
While the dough was rising I called my dad to ask about how to fix the sink. I wanted to have it fixed before Scott got home, because he doesn't particularly like to deal with my sink-clogging fiascos. And he tells me not to put things down the disposal. This was a really nasty endeavor involving a plunger, a washcloth, and a rubber sink stopper. Thank goodness for rubber gloves. I should explain my complete and udder dislike for all things involving the kitchen sink. The kitchen sink grosses me out more than almost anything. I hate to do dishes in it, I refuse to pull the plug if I am doing dishes by hand, I hate to clean it, and I hate when it's the least bit dirty. I would rather clean the whole bathroom than deal with the kitchen sink. I didn't have the manpower to unclog the sink at all. I called Scott and asked him to come home and bail me out.
We worked on the sink together when he got home, and in the process turned the disposal on, which turned the sink into a guyser which sprayed massive amounts of black bean gunk ALL over me, and ALL over the kitchen. So, maintenance is going to come fix it. "Maybe tomorrow".
I'm pretty sure I don't have as many brain cells now as I did before I was a mother.
