The Not So Terrifying Disposal

First, I have to tell you that the way my mother and I say "disposal" bothers my husband.  He says we say, "dispose-ALL" instead of, "dispose-sul" with a big emphasis on the "ALL."  I can hear what he's talking about and I guess the thing in the sink might be able to dispose of "all" things food-related, but regardless, that's not the word it's suppose to be, he says.

When I was a child, I was warned about the terrible dangers of putting your hand or finger or anything in the disposal.  The general level of warning was that anything that's within range just might get vortexed down there and be eaten to shreds and you would be very very sorry about the whole thing--if you survived, that is.  And for reinforcement, horror movies make this point utterly clear.

I have a disposal pusher stick I use today that I like, not because it keeps my hands and limbs away from the dreaded blades, but because by using the pusher, I don't have to touch food refuse, all mushy in the bottom of the sink.

We had moved into our house and I was cleaning out the sink one day and I was trying to get the little flaps of black rubber at the drain point clean when unexpected, the black rubber part came loose.  I hadn't broken the sink, this was a feature.  You could un-stopper the rubber part and clean it out, bleach it, disinfect it, whatever you like, and then stick it right back into place.  Oh, how very nice.

And that was the first time I had a really good look at what the chewing parts looked like in a newer version of a disposal.  The one we had as a child I seemed to remember had blades when you stuck your hand down there to get the teaspoon that had errantly fallen in.

But lo, our disposal didn't look so deadly.  Surely, it did a good job of gnashing up things, but there were no blades in evidence, only dull things that spun fast.  And oh, it was a good ways down there too.  

I still take care when using the disposal, but my fear of the swirling vortex of disposal death is somewhat less now.

The Big Boy Update:  My son went to work with Uncle Jonathan today.  For three hours he helped feed and give medication to dogs and pigs at a research facility.  He got to play with some of the dogs, including hiding in one dog's dog house and jumping out every time the dog came running back in with a big, "raaar!"  My son was very excited about, "bringing the medicine to the piggy to help with his elbow".  He is very tired tonight after all the excitement today.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  "I got my fascier down", my daughter told me.  "Wait, you did what?  Hold on, I just put your pacifier on the top shelf of the tall dresser.  Not possible", I thought.  I had only put it up high five minutes before.  But sure enough, she had her pacifier down.  And I didn't see how she did it.  After talking to her and cajoling her into showing me what she did, she smiled, opened the door to the play room, drug out the small table, calmly climbed on it, then on to the shelf, stood up and reached up to the top shelf to get her pacifier.  As she was getting down I told her I was impressed.  She then decided it needed to go back on the top shelf, so she climbed back up and deposited it before coming back down.