We bought our dishwasher six months ago. We went all out. We got a Miele. Its really amazing. I never gave a whole lot of thought to dishwashers before because well, because they are not very interesting. Who wants to think about dishwashers? OK, this thing is great. The dishes sparkle. Seriously, its that good.
Or it was. Until it stopped working last week. The whole we need a new dishwasher, I can't handle washing dishes for 6 people, lunch box containers for 4 kids... that was a whole different saga that I never got around to blogging about. It was a long and drawn out and painful saga which involved tedium and misery and paper plates. I was not about to relive that saga.
OK, so I just have to make a phone call because the stupid thing is under warranty. Except the high end specialty dishwasher shoppe doesn't keep normal hours. And when I do get a hold of them they need time to access my info. What info? I bought a dishwasher from you. It doesn't work. Tada! There is my info.
Apparently there is more involved in this. I have to call the special Miele hotline first. My personal specialist gives me the hotline number and tells me it will all be quick and fantastic and solved in no time because Miele is headquartered in San Francisco. Fantastic, except the hotline operates on east coast hours. WTF?
Eventually I speak with a highly trained Miele specialist who instructs me to do things like turn it off and turn it back on. Yes, I thought of that. I'm calling you because it does not work. He instructs me to have to look under the sink, is there a valve? No.
No?
No.
There is no valve?
No.
Hmmmm. OK. Turn it off again. Is it draining now?
No.
Hmmmm , I do not understand this. It should drain.
Yes, I know. Its BROKEN. THAT IS WHY I AM CALLING YOU.
Hmmmmm
...
Hmmmmm
...
You will need to have a service call. The service center will call you to set that up.
The service center did not call. I called the service center. They had to access my information. Oh I see you have a work order, so we will be able to help you. Oh great, when?
Hmmmm.
We do have a technician that works in your area! That bit of information was relayed a little bit too enthusiastically for my jaded self.
Seriously? I'm supposed to be excited about this bit of news? Isn't it your job to get someone to service the machine that is under warranty?
Fast forward to today when I eagerly await the dishwasher repairman.
Is this guy for real? This man shows up and he is a travesty of himself. His hair is slicked back on the sides. He oozed in, stating he will be able to fix anything. It kind of went downhill from there.
He kept raising his eyebrows at me and clearing his throat and adjusting his collar and moaning and groaning as he tightened things with wrenches. I thought about asking him if he'd like to use the bathroom to masturbate, then I thought about how funny it would be if I actually said that, then I started laughing to myself. Then I think he mistook my inward smile as a sign that I thought he was hot. Then he just HAD to show me this one incredible thing he could do. He could magnetically hook up his computer to my dishwasher and obtain info on how many hours I'd cycled through.
" You will love this" he said with a wink.
Eeew, OMG yes, I am turned on by computer read outs of the hours I've logged on my dishwasher. ( Close to 1,000. Sexy, right? Imagine all those dirty dishes... cycling).
Then my daughter, who was at home sick, had to make the situation feel far creepier. She is fascinated by the fact that my underwear is different than boy underwear. She is transfixed by the notion that I can choose between wearing a bra vs wearing a camisole. She had on a pink tank top with a silk indian print shirt on top. So she started asking what I was wearing under my shirt.
A little shirt like hers? Or one of those other things?
OMG NOOOOO! NOT RIGHT NOW.
Creepy guy was here for over an hour, winking and raising his eyebrows, and learning about my undergarments of choice, but he finally left and I finally have a dishwasher.
If it malfunctions again I will use paper plates.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Getting Places
Is it just my kids? Is it like this for everyone?
This is what happens when we go swimming. Oldest child does not get lessons since he is already on the swim team and practices there. The other three get lessons. Prior to leaving the house the three about to have swim lessons children are instructed to put on bathing suits and then put their clothes back on, on top of the bathing suits. I have found this minimizes the risk of forgetting bathing suits for the swim lesson ( not handy).
Unfortunately this technique has the side effect of also allowing for greater potential to accidentally wear underwear under the bathing suit. This is often not discovered until after the swim lesson when some one or other begins bemoaning having wet underwear. I tend not to catch on, assuring them that they do not have wet underwear, they are wearing bathing suits. Only when they undress do I realize, once again, why the wet underwear complaint has been filed. Do not wear underwear under your bathing suit.
So anyway, my plan is I get all the kids ready before we leave the house. We drive to the pool. I get my ID ready before we charge out of the car. We stumble through the parking lot wearing flip flops, no matter what the weather , because if you can swim you can wear flip flops. We go into the family changing room and the three kids remove the outer layers of clothing. I hand them goggles, we go meet the swim teachers.
During the lessons I have oldest child with me and we walk away from the pool area. If I am in the vicinity of the pool then child number 2 can't swim. So I need to be out of sight. There are chairs near the gym, in case anyone wants to hang out and gawk. So we sit there as child #1 pretends to get some homework tackled. What actually happens is he fidgets and picks at imaginary threads, asks inane questions, realizes he does not have a pencil. The forgotten pencil is a familiar theme and he has not quite figured out that this technique does not in fact mean he has escaped his obligations. What he does have to do is march himself up to the reception desk at the gym and ask to borrow one. That takes a good 20 minutes. Then he has to get readjusted in his chair and examine a shoelace for a while. Right about then is when he has all sorts of burning questions about eucalyptus trainers. Yes, eucalyptus. Just like what I have at home. I work out using a eucalyptus.
Oh look, he answered one question on his homework sheet and its time to grab towels and get the other 3 from their lessons. 3 out of the pool and into the locker room. There they wander about in varying states of undress for a while since I've managed to teach my children pretty much nothing about privacy. Getting dressed apparently requires a great deal of wandering about and dropping underwear onto the wet floor and being unable to fit your head through an arm hole.
When the 3 swimmers are finally ready I somehow find myself behaving in a way that implies I think I can just walk on out the door at this point. Of course I can't. Child #1, who did not even swim is not ready. His coat sleeve is inside out and his shoes are mysteriously off.
Really? Does this happen with other people's kids?
This is what happens when we go swimming. Oldest child does not get lessons since he is already on the swim team and practices there. The other three get lessons. Prior to leaving the house the three about to have swim lessons children are instructed to put on bathing suits and then put their clothes back on, on top of the bathing suits. I have found this minimizes the risk of forgetting bathing suits for the swim lesson ( not handy).
Unfortunately this technique has the side effect of also allowing for greater potential to accidentally wear underwear under the bathing suit. This is often not discovered until after the swim lesson when some one or other begins bemoaning having wet underwear. I tend not to catch on, assuring them that they do not have wet underwear, they are wearing bathing suits. Only when they undress do I realize, once again, why the wet underwear complaint has been filed. Do not wear underwear under your bathing suit.
So anyway, my plan is I get all the kids ready before we leave the house. We drive to the pool. I get my ID ready before we charge out of the car. We stumble through the parking lot wearing flip flops, no matter what the weather , because if you can swim you can wear flip flops. We go into the family changing room and the three kids remove the outer layers of clothing. I hand them goggles, we go meet the swim teachers.
During the lessons I have oldest child with me and we walk away from the pool area. If I am in the vicinity of the pool then child number 2 can't swim. So I need to be out of sight. There are chairs near the gym, in case anyone wants to hang out and gawk. So we sit there as child #1 pretends to get some homework tackled. What actually happens is he fidgets and picks at imaginary threads, asks inane questions, realizes he does not have a pencil. The forgotten pencil is a familiar theme and he has not quite figured out that this technique does not in fact mean he has escaped his obligations. What he does have to do is march himself up to the reception desk at the gym and ask to borrow one. That takes a good 20 minutes. Then he has to get readjusted in his chair and examine a shoelace for a while. Right about then is when he has all sorts of burning questions about eucalyptus trainers. Yes, eucalyptus. Just like what I have at home. I work out using a eucalyptus.
Oh look, he answered one question on his homework sheet and its time to grab towels and get the other 3 from their lessons. 3 out of the pool and into the locker room. There they wander about in varying states of undress for a while since I've managed to teach my children pretty much nothing about privacy. Getting dressed apparently requires a great deal of wandering about and dropping underwear onto the wet floor and being unable to fit your head through an arm hole.
When the 3 swimmers are finally ready I somehow find myself behaving in a way that implies I think I can just walk on out the door at this point. Of course I can't. Child #1, who did not even swim is not ready. His coat sleeve is inside out and his shoes are mysteriously off.
Really? Does this happen with other people's kids?
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