The dishwasher, the drain hose and Wally: Confessions of an unhandy man

I’ve pondered this many times, but despite much evidence to the contrary, I always convince myself that any household repair I face is manageable.

Not for an unhandyman. But replacing a dishwasher drain hose probably wouldn’t be that hard, I thought. It probably isn’t — for an accomplished handyman or handywoman. I’m not — that is, I’m accomplished in little except foolhardiness — and I’m too cheap to pay to have it fixed.

The machine was leaking. It’s installed under the kitchen counter. Before tackling it, I consulted the internet, where there often are helpful instructional videos. I called one up, and the guy was showing me how to remove the door, the sides and the back to get to the offending hose. I quickly clicked out of that and searched for something I might actually be able to do.

Since I have an older machine, the drain hose outlet was much simpler. No taking anything apart. No laying the thing on its side.

It just needed to come out from under the counter. I pulled. Nothing. I had to remove a wooden panel hiding part of the top of the machine. OK, just a pair of screws.

I pulled again. Nothing. Oops — didn’t see the two screws holding the machine to the cabinet.

I pulled again. Nothing. There were two more screws holding the wood piece the machine had been attached to.

At least all the screws were the same. That saved a trip to the basement. At least it did until it was time to release the clamps holding each end of the drain hose. One had a slotted screw — easy enough to handle. The other had a clamp that needed a pair of pliers.

Already three trips up and down the basement stairs and I’m sweating. I carefully placed a pan under one end of the hose to catch whatever water might still be in there. Unfortunately, I put it in the wrong spot, so now there’s a spill to clean up. That mishap reminded me to turn off the water supply line. I never did figure out where the power supply was to turn it off, but I was lucky enough not to electrocute myself.

A quick trip to the hardware store and I had a replacement hose. It went on with a lot of fumbling, but at last it was ready to test. I turned on the machine and nothing happened. Oops — I needed to turn the water back on.

I did that, then had to wait 10 minutes or so for the wash cycle to end and the draining to begin. More water gushed onto the floor. Oops again. I hadn’t tightened one of the clamps enough. Easy fix — then another wait for draining.

So far, so good. No leaks. Time to put the machine back in its place. But by now it was late and I had other things to do. I’d finish it in the morning. There had been only a little sweat and not much cursing. No blood, but plenty of aches from my deteriorating spine. Why push my luck, if you could call it that?

The next day, I avoided the thing as long as I could. That took real procrastination, since it was sitting in the middle of the kitchen. I’m still avoiding it because I can’t seem to get it back where it belongs.

To make myself feel better, I decided to take a break and do something I knew how to do: write. But now I’m done, and I can’t avoid the dishwasher much longer. As soon as I locate my drill to fix the holes that don’t seem to match up the way they used to, I’ll probably get it put back together.

If I can find any of the screws I dropped. And find the right-size drill bit.

A lot of ifs, but that’s how life goes for an incompetent unhandyman.