I usually consider myself a pretty intelligent person. I returned to college this year and am doing very well in my classes. I can have wonderful discussions with others on a wide range of topic, I think I am fairly well read, and have good reasoning skills. However every once in a while my highly evolved brain will come to a conclusion without considering all the possible outcomes, even knowing that at least possible outcome is high on the probability factor.
In this case I knew the probability of the outcome because I had done it once before. I just couldn’t remember one of the factors involved. As it had been at least 30 years ago since this particular incident had occurred, I figured that I was remembering incorrectly and just went for it. Behold my powerful deducing skills.
I had just loaded the dishwasher and discovered that I was almost out of the liquid that I use. I had just enough to fill one of the little compartments only partway. I had already been to the store once that day, and I didn’t want to leave the dishes sit overnight, so I substituted.
I know! I did the same damned thing when I was about 16. but my brain, which has been established, has the memory holding capacity of the average colander. I completely forgot exactly what I had substituted dishwasher solution with. My faulty memory thought that, as we had been using powder at the time that laundry powder would work. At least I think that may have actually been the case. I wasn’t sure. It may have been dish washing liquid, it may have been laundry powder. I just didn’t remember which one. Whatever it was that I used to substitute for Mom’s Cascade powder, it made lovely white, fluffy mountain range of suds which inched ever so slowly to my parent’s brand new carpeting.
So here I was, 30 years later, with not enough of my dishwasher liquid to do the job. I am thinking I had used laundry powder before, so surely liquid dish soap would suffice, as long as I didn’t use too much of it. I am reasoning this idea all while a tiny part of my brain, the part with warning bells is saying, “Wait Sylvie. Do you really remember what it was you used last time? Do you want to attempt this?”
“It’s cold outside, I have boxes full of decorations to drag back up the attic. I’ll go to the store tomorrow. It will be fine.” I tell that over-reacting portion of my brain. What happens next is what happens when frugality and being too lazy to go to the store join forces.
I loaded everything and started the machine. Then I went to put the holiday decorations back into the attic, a fun feat all by itself. Then I went into the kitchen for a glass of my holiday Chocolate wine, when I saw it. I can at least say that the lovely, white fluffy mountain range of suds was smaller this time. Either I caught what was happening earlier, or what I used this time wasn’t quite as concentrated as before. When I discovered the results of my faulty reasoning, I quickly grabbed some bath towels to dam up the flow of fluffy suds, creeping ever so closer to my new carpet. Thankfully the towel defense worked and the mass of suds just got a bit deeper, not wider.
I now have nice clean dishes and a freshly mopped floor. I will be venturing to the grocery store to replenish my dish washing powder as soon as possible. Hopefully I never attempt such a thing as trying to substitute dish washing powder or liquids ever again. Maybe not that, but knowing my track record for doing the utterly ridiculous, completely by accident, I am sure I’ll have more silly disasters ahead.