The Joys of Adulthood

Last Wednesday I started the dishwasher during the 7th inning of Game 1 to drown out the sound of the Yankees losing. While we were making dinner on Friday, I opened the dishwasher to stick a bowl in, assuming C had already unloaded it, and it was still full. C said that he hadn't unloaded it because it hadn't been run it the night before. I was pretty positive that I had clicked the start knob, because I remember the relief of Joe Buck's obnoxious voice being muffled by the jet engine-like roar of our machine. I started to question my sanity when I noticed that the detergent cup was still full of detergent. Ok, we'll run it again. We turned it on, went about our business, and opened it up again a few hours later to put the dishes away. Still not clean, still full of detergent. WTF?

We did some investigating, and discovered that there was no water being pumped into the tub. A little bit of googling and C's poking around and taking apart of the machine showed that the solenoid was busted. Still more googling and some asking around later, we faced the fact that we'd have to buy a new dishwasher. So that's how we spent our Saturday. I got up early to scour Consumer Reports and do some price hunting. The interwebs have made tasks like this much simpler. I narrowed our options down to three potential models, hit up the six major appliance retailers in our area, and started tracking prices. Much to my dismay, Best Buy had the best price on all three models.

We packed Baby C in the car and trucked over there, only to be completely ignored for 30 minutes while the "associate" was helping someone else. The customer service desk shrugged me off, so I called HHGregg and asked if they would match the price. I swiped the price sticker off the BB model and we headed across the street, where we purchased our shiny new black dishwasher with no hassle.

It's supposed to be delivered and installed today, and I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't kind of excited.

Oh, and hand-washing dishes really blows. I had forgotten just how bad. We *may* have a sink full of dishes from the last day or two waiting to be part of the inaugural load.