Yesterday was a hard day at work as I pruned the wisteria preparing for a new arbor: snow, cold and up and down the ladder. So when I came home, I was thrilled that Ricky had cleaned the house, taken care of the garbage cans, loaded the dishes and had supper in the oven. We were in the kitchen talking and laughing when he looked at the floor and exclaimed. I turned around to find a huge puddle of water. The dishwasher decided to drain on the floor. We cleaned the mess and drained the rest of the water.
Tonight, facing a lot of dishes after dinner, I decided to fix the dishwasher. I quickly determined that the seal had deteriorated in one corner and pushed the pieces back in place. Getting the carpet cleaner handy to suck up water, I decided to try it again. And it worked!
Steve checked it out and will get a new seal this weekend, but I felt so competent. Recently my sister told the story of how impressed she was when I fixed my dryer when I was single. I had forgotten about it, but I guess I just put the belt back in place. That caused me to wonder how or why I lost competence when I married a man who can take care of things around the house. Yes, it is division of duties and he is much more skilled at maintenance, but why did I stop trying?