Humor

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A successful commercial reminds us not to accept any substitution. "Go for the real thing," they wisely advise. How right they are.

During the last week, the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage has been enjoying her new grandson, Owen Snyder, up in Ohio.

Meanwhile, back at the parsonage, I've been taking care of things. Usually, my good wife does not leave me alone this long, but you know what new babies do to grandmothers? They throw all caution to the wind and vamoose.

Of course, she did not leave before she gave me detailed instructions on everything in the house that I could touch and most of what I could not touch. She's touchy about things in our house.

I have to remind her that this is our house. She just scowls and I politely drop the subject.

I must report that things have gone quite well for me this week. I have not poisoned myself, I have not locked myself out of the house and nothing has mysteriously exploded.

I even did several loads of wash, I'm proud to say. Of course, I followed the directions to the letter. It is amazing what a person can do when they follow directions, even if said person is a husband.

By Thursday, I noticed the dishwasher was getting jammed and the cupboards were void of eatingware. Very dutifully, I entered every dirty dish into the dishwasher.

One of the last things she said was, "Don't run the dishwasher. I'll take care of that when I get back." She explained that she had run out of dishwashing detergent and did not have time to get some before her trip.

But, I couldn't get those dishes in the dishwasher out of my mind. After all, everything else had gone so good, even the washing machine surrendered to my wishes. I thought it would be a nice surprise for my wife if I had all the dishes washed and in their place when she got home.

The thing about surprising my wife is I'm usually the one who gets the surprise.

All day Thursday, I thought about those dishes and when I got home that evening, I had made up my mind (even though all week long I did not make up my bed) that I would "do the dishes for my wife."

I assembled all the dishes on the counter and carefully stacked them in the dishwasher. I was taking no chances that something would go wrong.

After carefully filling up the dishwasher, I looked for the detergent and found the box, but it was empty, which reminded me why she did not want me to do the dishes in the first place.

Several options presented themselves to me at the time.

One, I could take the empty box and go to the store and buy a new one. However, that was too logical and I was preparing to take a bath, which meant I would have to get dressed.

Second, I could improvise. I chose the second option.

My thought, at the time, although it has changed somewhat, was a bubble by any other name is still a bubble. At the time, it made perfect sense to me. The primary purpose of a "bubble" is to clean.

I know from experience that Mr. Bubble does a fantastic job on me, so why not on the dishes in the dishwasher. Retrieving the bottle of Mr. Bubble from the bathroom, I generously applied it to all those nasty, dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

With a confident smile, I gave it one last squirt, closed the lid and turned it on. My, my, it purred like a kitten.

I dismissed myself, retreated to the bathroom, drew a nice hot bubble bath, and reclined with a Wodehouse novel. Oh, that Bertie Wooster. Everyone should have a Jeeves to work out the problems of life.

Every now and then, I listened for the dishwasher and it was still purring. There is nothing quite like the satisfaction that comes from a job well done.

By this time, I was well done and extricated myself from the tub and quickly bathrobed and went to the kitchen.

What I saw when I got to the kitchen defies explanation. The entire kitchen overflowed with the whitest, foamiest bubbles I had ever seen. All I could see were bubbles, and the mass was growing as I watched. At the time, I had no idea where they were coming from.

Wading through the foam, I discovered the source - the dishwasher. I immediately turned it off and just stared at the situation. What went wrong?

I mentally reviewed every step and could not figure out what happened.

Pulling every towel in the house, I quickly mopped up the kitchen floor. I kept thinking to myself, how could so little liquid produce so much foam? I soaked every towel in the house in short order.

Later that evening my wife called and I casually asked her, "Honey, what would happen if I used Mr. Bubble in the dishwasher?"

What she said (and I can't repeat it) made my blood run cold and explained the mess. Who knew?

I learned an important lesson on using substitutes. It reminded me of what Jesus said, "I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me."(John 14:6 KJV.)

Some people will accept some spiritual or moral substitute and then wonder why their life is flooded with problems. Jesus Christ is the original "Mr. Clean" and can take your mess and turn it into a blessing.

The Rev. James L. Snyder is pastor of the Family of God Fellowship, 1471 Pine Road in Silver Springs Shores. He lives with his wife, Martha, in Silver Springs Shores and can be contacted by calling 687-4240. Rev. Snyder's Christmas book, "Christmas Through A Parsonage Window," is available. His e-mail address is [email protected]. The church web site is www.whatafellowship.com.

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