Day 25: Low pressure sink water

Let's go to honest planet.

Everything's not awesome about living in L.A. I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I think it's fair to say the sink water pressure is a tad under perfect. In fact, to be blunt, it's way below average. Every day I get done with delicious meals, eager for the ultimate cleansing resolution of the experience, the rushing waters that cover every inch of my plate, leaving it kitchen clean, and dripping. But instead, a weak run of barely audible water lazily makes its way over my dish, a run that is runny only like thin salad dressing. I wait so long for the run to undress my china of its eating time attire that I begin to notice things, like how the kitchen really is the hottest room in our house, and how much there is to tidy before I can do things I really want to do. Do y'all feel me?

But it's okay, because the weak kitchen sink run is the exception that completes the rule. Like our women, our men, our pets, and anything else in this world, it knows it isn't perfect, yet it unapologetically completes every task it was made to do. There is no hesitation, no shifting of waters inside this beast's plumbing.

So get your run in my bun, hon. No need to hit that glorious pitch when you can itch my stitch. Take a bath in the fake tub at the mini mall, because we goin' to the tree house to have dinner in the kids' kitchen! Pass the gravy and I'll call in my tater navies. We'll invade the corn bread like Ben Bernanke and the corn bread Fed. And if we can't taste anything after that, we'll salt and pepper our tongues and gnaw on some 2x4s. We might not be all that, but we sure live like we do.