MOISHEH KAPOYEH, THE SEQUEL

When I was cleaning out cabinets from our last house, on the day the potential new owners were to come over to measure some things and do a final inspection, I found an old container of orange-flavored Metamucil. Wouldn’t it be nice to have the kitchen smell pleasant? (Yes.) So I poured it down the drain and ran the garbage disposal. But not for long enough . . . the remaining Metamucil did exactly what it's supposed to do, which is BULK UP with water, and next thing I knew, there was a clump of it rising through the black rubber things at the top of the disposal (like yeast dough, only with more concrete than flour). The disposal couldn't cut through it and died, and I had to call a plumber. It was a Sunday, of course, and it cost a LOT of money to get someone to come out and put in the new one that I had to run to Home Depot and buy. I can't remember how much THAT cost, but it was a very expensive day. If Jay had been home, he would have said JUST DON'T MENTION IT; HOW LIKELY ARE THEY TO TEST THE GARBAGE DISPOSAL?!?---and we'd get a plumber the next day; but I (and my inner perfectionist) panicked.

The house would've smelled just as nice and orange-y if I had dumped the Metamucil into the trash can. Rats!

P.S. SAYKHEL: I don't have any. This is not a secret.