My wife and the grill...or how to get a new grill in 60 minutes or less!

**Troy Dalton** · 07-18-2011, 12:30 PM

Yesterday, I had an interesting grilling experience. It's not really THAT funny, but I'm sure some of you will see the humor in it. First of all, I must preface this with the fact that I was not interested in having people over to the house on Sunday. Sunday afternoon is my relaxation day and it also happened to coincide with the World Division race. My wife says something to the effect, "Let's have some people over to watch the game and grill out!" I responded with a low groan and a rolling of my eyes.

After 20 years, my very perceptive wife picked up on my not so subtle clues and asked why I didn't want to grill out. I said, "Because, I have a race and I don't feel like working. Every time we have people over, I end up busting my ass standing over a hot grill and to be frank, I just cleaned the house top to bottom and I don't want to have to do it all over again on Monday."

To which she replied, "Don't worry, I'll take care of everything and we won't have anyone over until your race is over, plus I'll clean up." I was more than a bit skeptical, especially about the cleaning part, so I said, "Well, I don't feel like standing over a hot grill, plus those grill grates are starting to chip...and...etc...etc..." Of course, all my excuses weren't going to get me out of it and I figured what the hell, if I get to race and all I have to do is make a pitcher of Margarita's, I'm in!

So, I finished my race and the guests started arriving just as I was rinsing off the scent of champagne, gas, and grid girls. As instructed, I made a pitcher of top shelf Margarita's (Jose Cuervo Black Medallion is my secret) and cozied up to the chips and salsa. Next thing you know, my wife and our guests are ready to fire up the grill...and...like any red bloodied American male, I get a little nausious whenever anyone but myself gets near my grill.

Now, I probably should have mentioned this before, but I hate my grill with a passion. Really, I hate it and I'll never buy another Charbroil ever again. But...it's "My" grill and I really don't like anyone else messing with it. Nevertheless, she said she could handle it. So, I took a big gulp of my freshly made Margarita, jammed another chip down my gullet, and went to check on the kids.

Shortly thereafter, my wife returns with burgers, dogs, and some hot sausages. Sweet! I grab two of the Hot's and dig in. A short time later, I'm ready for my second Margarita "Tall Boy" and my wife turns to me and says...

"Hey...can you go turn the grill off?"

"What! Has it been on this whole time!?!"

"Yea...and..."

I didn't wait around to hear what else she had to say and raced out to the backyard. At first glance, the grill looked fine, but as I reached over to turn off one of the burners, I was taken back by the searing pain of burned flesh. Now, I don't know what the exact tempurature of molten lava is, but I assume it's pretty close to the same temperature of those damned dials! It was so hot that the dial just kinda melted off knob and fell to the deck, like some sorta crazy ass Salvador Dali painting.

Clearly, the others dials were just as hot and since I was now missing the finger prints on three fingers of my right hand, I wasnt' going to make the same mistake of grabbing another one (I may be dumb, but I ain't stupid). So, I grabbed the tongs and as I went to turn the other dials off, they simply fell to the ground, as if they'd previously been attached with a really thick gravy. Realizing that the grill was somewhere in the range of about 1000 degrees and still on high, I reckoned the only way to turn off the potential bomb, was to reach in and turn off the gas.

Now, I probably should have ran in and just grabbed a pair of pliers and turned off the burners that way, but I didn't think of that. Mostly because I was thinking about how my obituary was gonna read...so...I just reached in and started turning the gas off.

Was it hot?

Is water wet?

Anyway, long story short my wife put foil over the grates, but didn't punch any holes in it to allow the heat to escape and then didn't think to turn it off when she was done.

Then end result, is that my wife will never ever be allowed near "any" grill again and I get a new grill...the hard way.

**Almsfan** · 07-18-2011, 12:38 PM

That was a well written piece Troy. It made me chuckle as i read through it. Hope your digits heal quickly. Was there any mention of "dumbass" by your wife at the end of the day?

**smokee** · 07-18-2011, 12:39 PM

Hah! That sounds familiar!

My wife is not very handy, so anything involving tools gets done one of two ways: She wait for me to do it OR she gets impatient and tries to do it herself, and inevitably this means I have to fix it after her attempt.

Speaking of which, there is a shelf in the kids room that needs "re-hanging".