All I wanted was clean hands. Really. Clean hands where I don't have to use chicken juice hands to squeeze the dish soap. Yes, clean.
So I wanted a soap pump. And the first one I got refused to pump soap regardless of what I did to it. Even Frank couldn't get it to work, and he can do most anything. At Bed, Bath and Beyond I spend double what the first one cost, but it worked when I got home.
I thought my troubles were over and that my hands would be clean. And they were for the last two months. Until yesterday. Frank could not get the thing to pump out soap. So this morning I took it apart and cleaned out everything I could get to.
I added plain water to the reservoir. It still would not pump. I opened the battery slot on the bottom, looked at it and shut it up again.
Miraculously, it started pumping water! Yeah!
So I replaced the water with soap. Further testing showed it was working perfectly.
Three hours later, I am sitting in my living room watching Dr. Phil. Or Dr. Oz. Some doctor. I was playing my iPad game actually and the TV was on. I hear what seems to be a bird knocking on the window in the kitchen. O get up to catch the critter in action and realize there are undertones of a mechanical
sound in there. And nothing cute in the window.
The soap dispenser has been pumping its guts out! the reservoir is drained, the soap is slowly sliding down the drain and the stupid thing is pumping away.
I did what any mother does when an unruly child is being bad. I popped it but one!
And it stopped.
What??? I think my kitchen ghost is back..........and messing with me.