Because I am courteous that way

Recent phone call between GH and myself:

Me: Hi there.

GH: Hey, what's up.

Me: I'm just calling to let you know that when you get home tonight I am going to murder you.

GH: Oh. Why's that?

Me: Remember that time when you did the dishes before we left town for the weekend? And how that was really great of you?

GH: Uh huh.

Me: What was less great, was the part where you put a three-week-old piece of cod in the garbage disposal and then left it there to rot.

GH: (Laughing.)

Me: And then, when I run the disposal to get rid of the cod, I learn that there is ALSO a dessert spoon down there. So now I get to REACH IN WITH MY HAND, into the shredded stinky fish that's been just sitting there all weekend, and get the spoon out.

GH: (More of laughing, because maybe that is his response to imminent death. Very Han Solo of him.) Okay, see. I can't take responsibility for the spoon, but---

Me: ------WITH MY HAND!!!!

GH: Okay. I didn't know about the spoon being down there. But the fish, see, I was just trying to get rid of that garlic smell you were complaining about earlier.

Me: Well, it worked. I don't smell any garlic.

GH: See? There you go.

Me: Uh huh. You're still dying when you get home.

GH: I do appreciate the heads-up on that.

Me: You should.

GH: Okay, I love you.

Me: Love you too.

Seriously though, people? That is stank. Go do that to someone if you hate them. I was roaming all over the kitching, trying to figure out where that goshawful smell was coming from, only to peer down the disposal and see this slab of fish, just hanging out.

One lemon and a bunch of vinegar cleanser later, and the smell is mostly gone. Also I had to go scrub the violated hand with a steel-wool pad until there was nothing left but a nubbin.

shudder

Posted in: a better way to live