Remember the show I Love Lucy? Of course you do. I used to love watching re-runs of Lucy’s shenanigans on Nick at Nite. The one when she got the job at the chocolate factory is probably my all-time favorite.
I loved Lucy. (Get it?) But really, I adored her. I also sort of identified with her, and still sort of do. Awkward, loud, and always getting myself into shenanigans.
My mom and I do this thing sometimes, when something funny, goofy, totally off-the-wall happens to us, some ridiculous thing that happened from a completely mundane task, we say to the other “I just had a total Lucy moment.” Today I sent my mom this text: “Call me when you can. I have a pretty epic Lucy story.”
I spent most of this afternoon doing meal prepping for the week. I made a total of 6 different dishes, so I can just pick and choose for each meal. One of those dishes was a roasted beet dish. Why not? Beets are tasty and SO good for you. Seemed like a great option to include in my meals for the week.
This was my first time ever cooking beets. The directions told me to peel then chop, so I peeled, then chopped. I was then left with a pile of beet skins. To me, the logical thing seemed to toss them in the garbage disposal. Turns out, this was not the logical thing.
After sticking them in the drain, turning on the water and hitting the switch for the disposal, I quickly noticed the beet skins were not actually going down, and the disposal was making a grumpy gargling sound. So, I turned the disposal and water off. “Hmm,” I thought, “that was weird.” I decided to give it another go, but this time, not only did the disposal make the grumpy gargling sound, but the sink began to fill with dark pink water. Again, I turned the sink and disposal off. “Well, maybe I should just turn on the disposal again?” Friends, I should not have turned on the disposal again.
After about 5 seconds of the grumbling noise and the dark pink water swirling around the sink, BOOM. A loud thud and a spray of dark pink that left the sink, counter, cabinets, floor, and me splattered. Beet. Juice. EVERYWHERE.
I turned the disposal off and just stood still for about 45 seconds taking it all in. “I’m not going to freak out. It’s going to be fine.” If you know me, you know that this is quite unlike me. It would be more my nature to squeal at the top of my lungs, collapse onto the floor and cry for my parents. But, I kept my cool. Hey, maybe I’m finally maturing? (Types the 25 year old wearing Minion pajama pants.)
I changed my clothes, cleaned off the floor and cabinets, and did what any other mature 25 year old woman would do- called my dad. And after 30 minutes with two scrawny arms and a plunger, I managed to drain the sink of the dark pink water. It’s still backed up and needs to be fixed by someone who actually knows what they’re doing, but the worst of it is over.
So yeah, life is messy. Like, really messy. Like, dark pink liquid covering every surface you can see messy. But if you can find the funny in the mess, the clean-up process is much more tolerable.
Curiously,
Tori
