Large kitchen appliances

Well, I know I've been away a long while, but since no one was reading this deal in the first place, I won't bother apologizing all over myself for two paragraphs. I've written too much about it already.

I was cleaning the kitchen last night when I had a realization. The Bride's garlic press was in the sink, filled with the remnants of some garlic, used for making some fancy-schmancy salad dressing. If you don't know what a garlic press is, then this post is for you.

I recalled The Bride was asking me if she could buy a garlic press for our kitchen a few months ago. She had told me several times that "we really needed one." I was.....skeptical.

Now that I think about it, the whole exchange probably sounded a bit like Andy Dufresne asking Red for a rock hammer shortly after his incarceration in The Shawshank Redemption. Red sounded a bit skeptical, suggesting that the price might be higher since a rock hammer was a premium item. He didn't seem to have any idea what a rock hammer was, and Red was a little concerned that Andy might be getting it to stick in someone's back when they weren't looking. Or maybe he was going to use it to tunnel under the walls.

Andy just laughed.

Red asked, "What's so funny?"

Andy said as he walked away, chuckling, "You'll understand when you see it."

Sure enough, when Red gets the rock hammer and sees that it looks like a pick ax, except only about 8 inches long, he realizes the joke and says, "It would take a man 50 years to tunnel under the walls with it."

So, when The Bride asked if we could get a garlic press, not only was I concerned about where I would fit a garlic press into our newly created budget (I thought they were expensive), I was also trying to figure out where in the world we would put a garlic press on our limited counter space that was already filled with appliances.

See, for some reason (hint: I am retarded) I pictured this giant contraption that plugged in somehow, cost $50, and had to be hand-cleaned with a special expensive cloth. The Bride eventually brought home a garlic press, but somehow, it never registered with me when she did.

So last night, as my fingers were growing wrinkled and pruney from the steamy dishwater, I held this tiny little stainless steel contraption in my hands, and it hit me:

This is a garlic press.

And then I heard The Bride in my head, walking away, laughing as she said, "You'll understand when you see it."