But every now and then I go and do something that makes me seriously question whether I actually am as smart as I think I am.
Last Saturday my dear sweet husband decided to make waffles for breakfast. He is incapable of making waffles without making a huge mess, so I always tell him that if he wants to make waffles, he'd better clean it up. Well, his idea of cleaning up the waffle mix was to put the bag of Krusteaz on the counter next to the sink, 6 inches away from the pantry (where it actually belongs). And being on the counter next to the sink, the bottom of the bag got wet.
So in order to save our giant bag of waffle mix, I started scooping out the mix and transferring it into gallon Ziploc bags. When I'd emptied out about half of the bag, I decided it was light enough to pick up and dump into the next empty Ziploc. As soon as I picked up the bag, the wet bottom burst open and dumped floury waffle mix all over my kitchen floor.
Important choice: Sweep it up, or use the vacuum?
I happily sucked up all the flour through the hose, stopping a couple times to empty the vacuum into the trash can. Then I realized that my vacuum was covered in flour. So I took it to Ryan, who was showering, and told him I needed to rinse out all my vacuum parts to get the flour out. He got out of the shower, and I rinsed out my vacuum and left the pieces in the tub to dry. A few hours later, I put it all back together.
The next time I tried to use my vacuum, the engine let out this crazy high-pitched whine. Ryan made me shut it off. Then he looked at it.
"It's still covered in flour," he said.
"I know that. I think if I just keep using it, eventually all the flour will come out," I replied.
"It probably has flour in the motor. You can't use this! I'll clean it for you," he insisted.
So today Ryan sat down to clean out the Dyson vacuum. It is full of moldy flour. Ryan worked on it for an hour today and barely made a dent in it. My precious vacuum has been beaten by Krusteaz. Krusteaz and an idiot named Kara.
I called Dyson today, and they gave me the number of a local store that can take a look at it. I can replace the part with the worst mold for about 80 dollars, which wouldn't be so bad. In the meantime, I've got to borrow other people's vacuums to clean up after Sammy. Plus there is the shame and guilt that I killed my beautiful vacuum.
Remember, friends. If you ever start thinking you are really smart, the universe will find a way to prove to you that YOU AREN'T.