Home Entertainment Device

It's so q u i e t ! Ssh!

We are the proud owners of a new (for us) used dishwasher. And our ears are thanking us. Over and over. And Over.

The old one had served us well. Twenty years, approximately, it had noisily ground out its labour with only the occasional glitch. Through teenagers who refused to scrape dishes or rinse chocolate-drink-encrusted goo from the bottom of their glasses. Who left their bacon and eggs on their plates, well-hidden beneath beds, beneath couches, beneath laundry... So hardened even the dog couldn't find them anymore.

I've pulled out more hair from that motor than I have from my hairbrush. The little plastic square closers for bread bags. Chicken bones. Beads from necklaces. Elastic bands. Grapefruit seeds. Pieces of meat. Whole miniature carrots. Broken glass. Dental retainers. (Don't ask.)

And at least fifteen DOZEN of those triangular clippings from milk bags. See, they cut 'em off, and put them - get this - ON TOP of the garbage can. Then they pile the dishes on top of that. Then they grab the dishes and plop them into the dishwasher without a glance. And the little plastic clippings which had stuck to the bottom of the plates swirl around, rub over the dishes, get stuck in the sprayers, sink to the bottom, get stuck in the filter, and eventually, the motor.

Hubby has dutifully performed lifesaving surgery on the old dishwasher at least a dozen times in its life. Stuff stuck in the sprayers. Timer stuck. Rotation stopped by a build-up of hair and plastic milk bag clippings. He really thought it was a goner, that time, but a thorough clean and scrape of the motor gave it four more years of life.

A while ago, some Very Dear Friends bought themselves a new dishwasher, and asked us if we'd like to buy their old one, which is only about five years old. It merited serious consideration. Their model was quiet, for one thing. And it had a grinder section to deal with the things teenagers don't scrape off their plates.

Hubby and I kept each other awake nights discussing the pros and cons. The old adage "better the devil you know than the devil you don't know." Wondering if dishwashers are like cars, in need of expensive repairs from age three to age six. Theorizing that if we did switch, the new one would be sure to break down on us, simply because it never had for its previous owners.

Hmm. Add to that the fact that the previous owners are... are .... well, let's use the word "fastidious." A lot more than we are. (I use the term "we" collectively here: I must insist that I'm absolutely fastidious about what I put in my dishwasher! My family uses another term that is not so polite.) Given this family's tendencies, we worried that we'd soon make an end to it. Push it past the realm of "the call of duty."

Well, earlier this week, the old dishwasher gave us a new sound, and I snapped. "That's it," I said, "I'm emailing them. We can pay 'em on the 15th."

"Ask him if they've dropped the price first," hollered Hubby from the living room. "Ha ha," I said.

So this weekend it took place. The old dishwasher is now sitting at the curb, awaiting rescue. Somebody gonna get a good deal on it, for sure! Maybe get three or more years out of it - provided they can figure out what's making that grinding noise...

And this evening, as Hubby and I scoured the rooms looking for items to put into the new dishwasher, Stepdaughter couldn't stand it any more and started to make fun of us.

"Is this what passes for entertainment for you two?" she laughed. "My god, you guys are pathetic!

Hubby and I each countered with a similar list of truths about our lives, mostly to the effect that yes, this is what buying a house and having kids will do to you. Don't do it if you want to have a life!

I stood in front of it, owner's manual in hand, trying in VAIN to hear it fill, wrapt in utter adoration and thankfulness.

Thank you SO MUCH, Very Dear Friends! If not actual peace of mind, you have given us peace and quiet!