About two years ago, after we moved into our home, we decided to buy all new appliances for the kitchen. This would be an adventure that would take weeks. That is because I would search high and low for a "matching" stove, refrigerator and dishwasher set. Generally this should not have been such difficult task, but our refrigerator had to be a certain size to fit in its hole. Fridges are much bigger than they were twenty years ago when our kitchen was last remodeled. There are cabinet doors above the fridge, they can't be taken down either, not without completely destroying the surrounding area. To add to this insanity, I was forcing myself to stay within a strict budget of three thousand dollars. So started the fun. Many variations of finding fridges that fit, but didn't have a dishwasher to match or finding a matching set but for five thousand dollars or my favorite one; when I found the right price and they all matched, but realized through my mistaken giddiness that the fridge was an inch too large. An inch! I almost gave up.
Then, as if the end of a double rainbow had stopped at my laptop, I found me pot o' gold. The fridge was the right size, everything matched and for the golden price of $3100. I could deal with that, the price included taxes and delivery and they were taking away our old appliances. I was so happy, I could see music and felt blue. This might be where one should have questioned their own mental health.
For two weeks I loved my appliances as much as any stable person should. The appliances made the kitchen look bigger and brighter. I enjoyed my kitchen all the more and was thrilled with our final purchases. I didn't know what was around the corner.
For some reason, unexplained to me, the sailor decided to redecorate our office area. He was taking our small but old (heavy and clunky) TV from the playroom to our home office. I reminded him that the kids watch this TV and there is no cable (at the time we had cable) in the office. He had forgotten that there was no cable outlet. So he scooped up the TV and went about his soon to be terrible day.
I went to my lovely kitchen to make everyone lunch. I went to open the refrigerator and that is when I saw it. My heart had dropped at the sight of a plum sized dent in the door of my beautiful fridge. My mind went racing. How could this have happened? Who would do such a thing? Then it hit me. That stupid TV. When the sailor had passed by to return the TV he had unknowingly hit the fridge. Anger is not the word. There are no words. I always thought if anger were a color it would be red. It is not, it is white. A hot white filled me with contempt as I unleashed a tirade of epic proportions directed at the sailor. He looked at me utterly confused and asked what was wrong. I guess he hadn't put together, through my spittle and disgust, what was bothering me.
He hadn't even realized what he had done, which did not help his case any. At least not in my unhinged mind. I went on and on about how long it had taken me to find the "perfect" appliance set, how much money we spent and how could he be so careless. While I berated, I started googling how to fix dents in stainless steel. I tried all the suggestions, nothing worked. I even called an auto body shop to see if they repair appliances, they said not stainless steel ones. This is not looking good for you sailor.
I heard him shout from the kitchen that he fixed it. A wave of relief had taken over me and I ran to the kitchen, only to find he had done this.
I couldn't help but laugh, that jerk. Using his humor to combat my lunatic anger, but it made me realize that maybe I was too upset about the whole situation. It hit me like an old TV hitting a refrigerator, I don't want to be a person who gets unbelievably mad over a small accidental dent. I had become an anger volcano, spewing venom at my best friend over an inanimate object. I really don't want to be that type of person. I know he hadn't meant to do it and he had said sorry more than enough times. I couldn't stay angry anymore and apologized for my antics. He gave me a hug and forgave me, without one comment about how I had been a petty and horrible person. In reality this isn't a story about how the sailor sometimes screws up, it is the story about how he can sometimes be absolutely perfect.