Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Why All Decisions Pass Through Her
A recent example out of so many of how things get done at our house. And why I have to check with the boss on any big stuff. And, if I’m smart, small stuff too.
The top slide-out basket in our dishwasher came off the rails. That’s what I thought, anyway, but I couldn’t seem to get it back on track. I tried and tried. My wife took a look and saw that it wasn’t just off track – a little flange or thing-a-ma-bob had snapped off.
So she told me to call this guy she’d bought it from, who also did repairs. I did. He was having eye problems and couldn’t come out, but based on my description of the problem and then my reading him off the serial and model number, he did some research and said we’d have to replace the entire basket -- for, get ready, about $280.
Or we could get a new dishwasher for around $800.
I swallowed and, aware that I was exceeding my authority here, told him to go ahead and order the basket.(I mean, there were no other options, right? The guy told me so.) Then I told my wife what I’d done when she called. She told me to call him right back and cancel the order, that she’d take another look when she got home.
She did. She pulled the tray out, squatted and squinted. Then she had me get some super glue, and in five minutes had fixed the problem for maybe around thirty cents worth of glue. Not $280, not $800, but thirty cents, maybe less. Just a squirt.
That was a couple weeks ago. The tray is sliding fine, holding the weight fully laden. But, hey, I contributed. What I did is, I held the two parts together when my wife told me to, and I kept doing that until she told me to let go.
It’s called the division of labor.