The last laugh…

I posted a couple of days ago about our dishwasher that gushed so much water that it went through the floorboards and into my washing machine below it in the basement.

We weren’t supposed to have a repair person come until the end of next week, but they were in Arlington and came this afternoon.  Good news! 

After some checking this and that, the problem was discovered. A mouse chewed a large hole in one of the hoses.  That little filthy bastard! Of course they didn’t have one of those particular hoses in the repair truck since it’s not a part that usually “goes.”

The part will have to be ordered; they asked if Marty can install it himself since they can’t come back for 10 more days. They showed him exactly what to do, and he’s handy like that.

In late fall, we noticed a lot of mice coming inside. Marty set traps and caught 10 within a few days of each other. It seemed like every time he stopped; we noticed the telltale evidence of more mice. 

Living in Vermont and not expecting to have mice is like living in NYC and not expecting to have roaches. It’s a part of life here, and you have to be proactive, especially in your home kitchen, or you can get very sick or worse. 

Listen, I hate the idea of getting rid of mice and feel bad about it, but it’s like dude…you have the whole fucking state, don’t shit all over my countertops, or have a buffet in my pantry. It’s unsanitary; you will get closed down by the board of health if you are a food business. Without a doubt! #truth

So the little bastards got the last laugh, it seems. Revenge for taking out their friends. Or did they? Obviously, the mice are still alive and well here in the Irion household, and that has to end. I say mice because there is no such thing as having a single mouse; there are always more. 

Now at least we know what the problem is and how to fix it. I am satisfied that the appliance store’s repair people squeezed us in on their route today. They were super nice guys, and we sent both of them home with a free package of spätzle to try since they both were curious about it. 

Marty is bound and determined to find the part himself and have my dishwasher repaired by tomorrow afternoon, especially since now he knows how to fix it. What about the part they order for us if we don’t need it? They said it will now be a stock item on the repair truck. 

Let’s see who gets the last laugh now.