Never, ever gloat!

Mom always told me it wasn’t nice to brag or boast. So I should have known when I was carrying on (“Household dominance — I haz it!”),  I was somehow jinxing myself.

Sunday, when I got home from a family event, I noticed a wet spot on the carpet in the hall. My immediate assumption was the dog had gotten desperate, and I treated the spot accordingly. The next morning I noticed, finally, that water was coming from under the fridge. It had been seeping under the hardwood flooring and into the carpet in the hallway. Who knows for how long. The planks had already started cupping and the carpet was damp over a much larger area than I’d noticed the day before.

I peeked under the fridge and saw the drip pan was overflowing. Too full to try to pull it out without spilling it everywhere, and besides, it didn’t look like it would come out. A turkey baster was my only option for lowering the water level. I pulled the fridge away from the wall, shut off the water, and went to work. All this after an urgent call to Sears because it’s a Kenmore . “Yes, we’ll have someone out there tomorrow between 1 and 5.” Tomorrow!?

Some time later, I realized that the pan was refilling every few hours. Shutting off the water hadn’t worked. Too much water already in the lines? Shut-off valve not working? That much humidity condensing in the fridge? I was not a happy camper as I got to down on my knees to draw off more water. (At my age, getting down is easy; getting up again is the iffy part.)

At bedtime, resigned and exhausted, I emptied the pan as much as I could, put a towel down where the water usually spread, and turned to set up the coffeemaker for the next morning. Emptied the pot, stood there rinsing it and refilling it. Looked down and saw water pooling around my feet! Groan! Not fair! I’d have cried, but I didn’t need any more water in the kitchen.

Yep, the leaking garbage disposal I’ve mentioned before had decided to give up the ghost. The water seemed to be coming from the bottom, not a loose coupling, and there was enough of it to run out the front of the cabinet and onto the floor. Apparently it had been accumulating for a while. No choice but to remove everything under the sink and pull out the plastic liner so the wood could dry overnight. And just in case, I positioned the empty coffee can to catch drips.

The next morning, Tuesday, the towel was saturated, with water pooling around it. The wood was still warping, the carpet was still wet. And so ensued damage control until the Sears man arrived. Get the dripping towel to the sink, dry all the obvious water, grab the turkey baster, pan, flashlight, and kneeling pad and go to work. Repeat every hour or two to keep the water at bay.

At 3:30 the phone rings. The Sears guy has been tied up on another job and “can’t make it today.” WTF! %)_*%!!^$^&)$^!!

Checked the BBB listings, prayed, and called the closest plumber. Wonder of wonders, they (Trinity Plumbing) had a man out here an hour later. He figured out the leak was from the water filter. And he found a burned out switch of some kind.  The Sears man had diagnosed the “clicking” problem over the phone (couldn’t be troubled to come out as scheduled; he called instead) ten days ago, and said it meant the compressor was dying ($700 repair or new fridge, my choice). The Trinity man had no appropriate parts on his truck, so he’s coming back with them this afternoon. Meantime, the fridge has been unplugged. It remains to be seen how much food I’ll lose, but at least there hasn’t been any more water on the floor.

While waiting for the repairman, I researched garbage disposals, found the best price for the one I wanted was at Amazon, and ordered it, after making sure I had someone who would come install it.

I’m hoping I’ve seen the end of this nightmare, but I’m not counting on it. I’m probably still looking at getting the floor fixed or replaced. But lessons learned.  Don’t count on Sears home repair. And never, ever gloat about fixing your appliances. At least, not in front of them.

9 thoughts on “Never, ever gloat!

  1. Oh good heavens, that’s a short story – you could probably enter it in a contest in win. So sorry you’re having that kind of trouble. Been there, done that and it’s a bitch. Shall I send you some dry towels?


    1. Oh thanks! I think I’m out of the woods now. The Trinity man just left, the fridge is rapidly cooling down, and there’s not a drop of water on the floor. (knock wood) Looks like I can finally relax. However, I could use some Excedrin …

  2. I’m so sorry you’re having such a time of it. I imagine it feels like the old “when it rains, it pours” thing. My mom taught (or at least tried to teach) me the same thing, but it took long years of suffering and wondering just what the cosmos had against me for the lesson to finally sink in. Nowadays I clear away from anyone who even appears to be bragging about something, for fear of getting caught in the cosmic crossfire! 😯

  3. I’m not laughing. I once bragged about the wonderful wall closet I inserted between the studs behind my refrigerator in order to use less expensive water filters than the screw in type that came with my new refrigerator. The next month the water filter case split down the middle and flooded two rooms. Did you know that a water filter in a well built plastic case costs around $30 in my neck of the woods? So, I’m not laughing. Or (shudder) bragging either.

    1. I paid $40 for my new filter and that’s seems to be about average here. I’ve always been content with tap water myself, but it seems every fridge these days comes with a filter. Obviously I’d have been much better off without one.

    1. Thanks. Yet another reason for me to miss the apartment I left when I bought this place. There it would have been one phone call, and their property at stake …

... and that's my two cents