gasoline

there are some days that i wish that there was a video camera set up in my house, because sometimes there are just no words to describe the level of ridiculousness that goes on. (yesterday was one of those days.) now let me begin by saying that my husband is not a very "handy"man. he doesn't build stuff, he doesn't hunt stuff, he doesn't fix stuff often, he doesn't use a hammer...he's just not handy. (nor does he have common sense when it comes to these types of things.) he played football in high school...but was an art major in college. (he's all over the place.) moreover, i don't think his dad made him do these types of things when he was growing up. my father, on the other hand, is on the exact other end of the spectrum. in fact, he built my childhood home with his own two hands. i'm not saying he, like, helped a contractor build the house and hammered a couple nails into the walls...i'm talking he built the walls, the floors, did the plumbing, the electric, the drywall...the house. he built a friggen house. with his own two hands. he is not a carpenter or contractor by trade...he's just handy. so you can see that the disconnect in this regard between my husband and my father sometimes becomes humorous. yesterday it was pretty awesome.

my dad had brought a pressure washer down during the last visit in order to clean the siding on our house. whenever he comes to visit, he brings a truck load of tools and does all of the mr. fixit things that need to be done on our property...mainly because butch doesn't operate power tools, nor enjoys manual labor. usually, though, my pop tries to rope warren into helping him...and usually he is successful. so during the last visit, my dad ripped apart our fence in the back to fix it...only to realize it was my neighbors part of the fence. (i had to write a letter of apology to the neighbor...but that's a whole other story.) meanwhile, he told warren to go out on a ladder and use the pressure washer to blow all the dirt off of the siding on the side of the house. butch started out pretty enthusiastic and got about half way done before he quit for the day. my dad decided to leave the pressure washer at our house so that butch could finish during the upcoming weeks he was off for the summer. (i knew damn well that wouldn't happen.) the pressure washer has sat untouched on our porch for the past 2 months.

we haven't gone 'home' in that time, nor have my parents made a visit...so it's just been sitting there. we are going home this weekend and my dad told me to bring it with us. at first, i was like, "yeah, sure." but then got to thinking...and thought about all the CRAP we somehow manage to take home for a mere weekend. (loads of CRAP.) doesn't matter if we are going for a night or a week...our car looks like something outta the show sanford and son. (junk galore.) this time, we also have to travel with our (60 pound) dog, so that's an added...obstacle. (just painting a picture here.) alright, so i tried to do damage control...and recruit fen (who is also traveling home) to take the pressure washer with her in her car, cause she doesn't have two kids (nor a dog and loads of crap) to take along with her. well, of course she wigged out and was worried about gas fumes and leakage and lots of other stuff...so that didn't work out. i don't blame her...because knowing the stuff that happens in her life, it may have spontaneously combusted in the backseat while driving and she would've wrecked or some shit like that. i don't want to be responsible for that business...and it coulda happened. (for real.)

so anyway, to make a long story long...we had to get the gas out of the pressure washer to make it more portable. i called butch on my lunch break at work yesterday and asked him to empty the gas out of it and clean it up. (he agreed.) he asked me where he should dump the gas and i said i didn't know. (turns out i should've given him some options.) i breezed in the door after work and every window downstairs was open, including the sliding glass door to the backyard. i thought it was kinda odd, but the weather was spectacular...so i didn't ask too many questions. ella was swinging (naked) on the swingset, right along her sister...who was still in her pajamas. (no lie.) butch was shirtless and was pushing them both. we went through the normal pleasantries...and i then asked him if he cleaned up the pressure washer. he said yes. i went on..."so where did you put the gas?" now let's just go hypothetical here. if YOU had to dispose of gasoline and you weren't sure what to do with it, what would YOU do? i bet it's not what my HUSBAND DID with it. i thought maybe he dumped it on the side of the house...or in the driveway and washed it away with the hose...or maybe consulted with google or jeeves to find out what to do? (but no no no.)

without missing a beat he said..."in the sink." in the WHAT?! i yelped, "in the SINK!? the godDAMN SINK!? have you lost your mind?!" my hands were on my head, my mouth agape, and the tone of my voice made ella bust out into hysterical laughter. carrie started laughing because her sister was cracking up. i try not to use "bad" words in front of my children...but this was one moment where the phrase "goddamn" sink was necessary. (i couldn't help it.) i walked away and then came back..."THE SINK!? which ONE!?" he replied, "the kitchen sink." i lost my mind..."what made you think that a flammable liquid should be POURED DOWN THE DRAIN!? in our HOUSE?! in the KITCHEN?!" he shrugged his shoulders. (and smirked.) the reason for the windows and back door being wide open was now very clear. i then had to use the facilities and went to the downstairs bathroom...i walked in and was whacked in the face with the smell of gasoline. (jesus.) i then texted my dad. i gave him one guess as to where his son-in-law disposed of the gasoline from the pressure washer. he guessed "the grass." "no, sir! the goddamn kitchen sink!" my dad replied that he would've never guessed that one...and i know DAMN WELL that he was laughing hysterically when he got that message.

it is very reminiscent of the time that our pipes froze last winter...and i was on the phone with my dad telling him about it and asking how to unfreeze them. during this phone call...butch walked out and opened the electrical box. (the electrical box.) he was looking for some way to "turn back on" the water. (this really happened.) all i said to my dad was, "oh my god...he's looking in the electrical box." it took a good 5 minutes for my father to get his shit together...he was doing the ugly laugh on the other end of the phone and couldn't breathe, talk, or function. when he finally composed himself he just said, "step away from the electrical box, butch." (awesome.) this being said, he is no stranger to butch's non- handyman ways...so the gasoline down the kitchen sink wasn't a complete surprise. (funny, but not shocking.) he told me to run the water and flush the toilets a couple of times...and a couple hours later my dad was still laughing about it. (i was not laughing about it.) in fact, i was so pissed off that i strapped on my sneakers and went for a run at 7pm (even though i was highly exhausted at that point.) it was either that or stress shovel a coupla klondike bars down my chops. (i chose the former...good for me.)

so like i said in the beginning...the nonsense is never ending. it's like an eff'd up made for tv movie. (annnndddd action!) gasoline down the kitchen sink? just par for the course in this house. when i got home today, it realized it was the first day this week that my children were actually dressed in normal clothing. carrie's dress was on backwards...but at least he attempted to clothe them. shortly after i arrived, he showered and ran out the door to go somewhere. (anywhere.) he's had it with the stay at home dad gig. upon our arrival, i cannot wait to hear the shellacking my dad is going to lay on butch...or maybe there will be no words exchanged about it, he'll just give him one of his "looks." (either way, it's well deserved.) i'm over the fact that he poured flammable fuel down our pipes...i'm just glad he didn't blow up the house. had that happened, though, at least i know that my dad could build us a new one. (however, i sincerely hope that he would have enough sense to not ask my husband for his help.)  tonight we are packing up the car so we can leave right after i am done work in the afternoon. included in the vehicle tomorrow will be...a pack n play, a feeding chair, a dog, 4 bodies, 3 bags, 2 carseats, 1 pressure washer, everything but the (gasoline ridden) kitchen sink. good grief.