A nose enema and fecal eye-drops . . . just another day for ma at the spa

Here’s a picture of our kitchen counter, with its two-compartment sink.  Please note the sink, the counter and the location of the panel of switches to the far right of the frame.

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The sink on the left has a disposal.

To turn on the disposal, you have to lean across counter on the right to reach the switch.

It just so happens that every time you lean across the counter and flip the switch, a blob of disgusting water shoots out of the right sink drain at the perfect angle to nail you right in the face.

Would anyone like to tell me what is up with that?  (and by that, I mean the whole package…a drain that aspires to be a germy version of Old Faithful, a combination of switch and counter placement that positions your face directly in the line of fire, and the extraordinary sleep-deprivation that renders me unable to remember that will happen and take appropriate precautions.)

By the way, the best precaution is piling the right sink high with dishes that block the water-blob.  But, unfortunately, you have to run our disposal right before you can run our dishwasher – a long story of relationships between electric devices I won’t go into – so every time I load all those dishes from the right sink into the washer, I have to switch on the disposal before I can use the dishwasher to clean them.  For my efforts, I am then awarded with a nose enema.  And my husband wonders why both his wife and the kitchen are in such a state . . .

But I digress, because the point of this post is about how it seems that every time I start to whine about minor problems, the universe grants me a healthy dose of perspective.

Because today T pooped right after my nose enema, and as I was dumping the turd from his cloth diaper into our toilet, the plop led to a backsplash that nailed me right in the eye.

That’s right, ladies and gentlemen:  a fecal eye-drop.

It does wonders for your perspective (though not for your vision…)

Because all of a sudden, the germy nose enema seems like a fairly minor part of my morning . . .

. . . and a hot shower just became the most important item on my to-do list today.

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