On January 5 we had no choice. The crazy thing was leaking. It began making a loud rumbling sound during the dry cycle. And the worst thing of all: Our dishes came out dirty.
Goodbye Mrs. Dishwasher.
Or so I thought.
I went to Sears. Identified a Kenmore, reasonably priced (cough cough) dishwasher. Good. Deliver it, please. Oh, it'll be a week. This dishwasher is not in stock here but we will ship one here and someone will notify you when it arrives in the store.
Thursday, January 10 I called to check the status. I was told the dishwasher was set to arrive in my friendly neighborhood Sears by Monday. Someone will call you to schedule delivery.
Well, it's Monday. AND it's MY BIRTHDAY PEOPLE! I called Mr. Sears to inquire about my order. The box has been LOST. The dishwasher is misplaced. They have no idea where it is or who is washing dishes with it. All I know is it's Not me!
The young man with the strong accent assured me that someone will email me with the status within 48 hours.
48 hours? I don't think so.
Goodbye. I called back and canceled my order.
Tomorrow Ironman and I will go buy a dishwasher and bring it home with us. We will not buy it from Sears.