Chopsticks: The Home Improvement Tool of the New Millenium

In 1997, when Todd and I started going out, I lived in the world's smallest apartment. It was the kind of place where the kitchen was so small I couldn't open the fridge all the way. It would open halfway because the walkway between the fridge and the sink was so narrow that the fridge door couldn't open all the way. Putting leftover pizza away was a feat of engineering that usually required a plate and foil.

There was no storage space to speak of in this apartment. There were two tiny closets. The closets were not deep enough to store clothing. I had to turn the hangers slightly to be able to close the closet doors. The building was erected some time before the wheel was invented and I suspect people used smaller hangers then, and didn't store leftover pizza in the fridge.

The bathroom had its own issues. Sure the tiles were charming, but a radiator pipe ran floor to ceiling right near where I stood when I used the sink. If I had a nickel for every time I burned my shoulder on that hot pipe I could have covered the rent for at least 2 months. There was no faucet with which to fill the tub; I had to run the shower to fill the enormous tub when I wanted to have a soak. Located high up on the wall, near the ceiling, was the bathroom window which allowed a scenic view of the bedroom if you stood on the sink on your tip toes.

Storage was lacking in the bathroom until Todd came over for the weekend and built a shelf. He bought a piece of that white wire shelving and fastened it to the wall using hemp string and a chopstick. I knew on that very weekend that he would be the man for me. He secured a shelf using a chopstick. How MacGuyvery cool is that?

Now it's twelve years later we're preparing for our new fridge to be delivered tomorrow. The one that came with the house sucks. It doesn't close properly. Griffen ate the handle one day when he wanted to get something to eat. It's a side by side fridge freezer jobbie, that we can't, ironically, fit leftover pizza into. Tonight we pulled the old fridge from the wall and disconnected water line that runs to the in-door water dispenser. Todd disconnected the main water line that runs into the house from the well, so we wouldn't have to work in a puddle, then we moved the fridge to the other side of the room.

"So, this presents an interesting problem. We'll need the water on tomorrow morning when we take showers. But it'll just pour out of this line if we turn it on," Todd stroked his goatee, deep in thought.

I wasn't paying attention to the water dilemma until he called up from the basement "I am going to turn the water back on. Tell me if water comes out of the water line."

I sat and waited, no water came out, "No, it's not. It's fine!" I called back to him. He joined me in the kitchen when I asked him, "So, what did you do?"

He pointed to his genius fridge water line plug. Jammed into the end of the water line was a chopstick.