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Kitchen stories

15 Feb

Our dishwasher broke yesterday.  Josh thinks he might be able to fix it, but if he can’t, we have to think about how we replace it.

I know the obvious answer is “Just get a new one.”  But the one that broke is a portable dishwasher – as in you park it in once place in the kitchen, then when you run it, you move it to the sink and hook it up.  Not the most convenient way of doing things.  We can’t install a built-in dishwasher without doing a major overhaul of the kitchen, if not full remodel. 

A full kitchen remodel would be the way to go in my book, but honestly, that would cost more money than we have right now.  So in the meantime, I’ve been trying to cover some of the ugly that makes up my kitchen with paint.  My kids always want to help me paint, sometimes I let them.

I tend to do most of the painting these days during the daytime.  My mother was different, she tended to do stuff at night while we slept.  The one time this happened was the week of Christmas, when I was about six.

That morning, I came downstairs and came to a dead stop in the kitchen.  I stared at the walls, my little six-year-old brain confused.  Was there always this wallpaper on the walls?  Not just in the kitchen, but the breakfast room as well.  I was at a complete loss.  I was almost certain that the day before, all those walls were white.  But now they were papered with a botanical print.  I stared at that wallpaper, suddenly unsure of my memory.  Which is a very scary thing at age six!  Surely I should remember wallpaper…but there was nothing left about to give me a clue as to when it was put up.  No smoothing tools, glue or paper leftovers.  All was as it should have been – except the walls were papered.

It took me a few hours to work up the courage to ask my mom just how long the wallpaper had been there.  Her answer was that she did it the night before.  I became a very relieved little kid after hearing that.  To this day though, I can picture my little self standing in the kitchen that morning, wondering….and now I wonder, have I ever done that to my kids?  I don’t think so, but if I have, I’ll just apologize now.

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