Being Thankful Day 3

I'm just gonna launch right into it:

I am thankful for my husband.

This past weekend, he did something really amazing. See, we've been having some problems with our milk. I don't know why, maybe the cow gods are trying to tell me that I snarf too much of the stuff, who knows? All I know, is I bought three gallons of milk a couple of Mondays ago and by Wednesday, they were all off. Like rotten. I dumped them and bought three more. On Wednesday. So I made the infamous Oreo pie for my SIL's birthday and had some leftover Oreos. What goes with Oreos? You guessed it: milk. (In fact, it's the best partnership of food on the planet, even better than peanut butter and jelly. Wait. Are Oreo's considered food? In my world, yes. In fact, in my world, that's all you'd have to eat to stay alive. Oh, and bacon. Definitely bacon. Wow, this is a long tangent.)

Anyhoo, so I poured myself a big ole glass of milk and got some Oreos. The. Milk. Was. Bad.

I. Was. Mad.

It was Sunday night. So I bought said milk on Wednesday and it's bad four days later? That didn't seem right. So the hubby, who has the nose of a bloodhound, has been saying that the fridge stinks for a couple of days. I think it's his way of saying I need to be a better housekeeper, but after twelve years of matrimony, I'm pretty good at ignoring him when he says something smells.

But now that the milk is bad--again--I start rooting through the fridge for the culprit. I am convinced there is something in my fridge that is responsible for the spoilage of my white gold. Seriously. Hey, I'm no biologist. I don't get bacteria. I do get that my milk was bad. And I had the perfect food combo...and I couldn't enjoy it.

So I determined that this old nasty tupperware of sauerkraut was the reason our milk was going bad in only a few days. Lame, in hindsight. But I can barely see in foresight, so I have to analyze my past choices in order to have 20/20 vision.

I take out the offender and pour it down the disposal. I gag. I hate sauerkraut. We only have it for the hubby. It was dees-gust-ing. So of course the disposal gets plugged up. Of course. So I'm plunging. Nothing. Running the disposal. Nothing. I don't have one of those ultra-mother disposal's that you can put the top of pineapple down, but I like to pretend that I do. Not a good idea.

So my husband gets under the sink and undoes the s-bend and all this sick sauerkraut water, along with 4 bendy straws and all twelve eggshells I used on the chocolate pie, chugs into the bucket. Gross. He cleaned it all out, took out the barfalicious water and my sink was fixed.

See why I'm so thankful for him?

Now, did this solve my milk problem? I have no idea. I bought some milk the next day at a different store and it was fine. But by then, the Oreos were gone. Life lesson in all this? The perfect food combination only comes around every once in a while. You better hope your milk isn't bad when it happens.