This story starts at a youth rally. In an auditorium. Surrounded by 4,800 other people. There was a band playing and teens singing. In the midst of all of this, I received a phone call. It was my roommate.
When I answered the phone, I couldn’t hear anything, but sobbing. I made my way out of the exhibit hall and into a quieter area, convinced at this point that someone was dead based on the level of disturbance coming out of my phone. I asked what was wrong and the explanation, interspersed with sobs, was that she had broken the back door.
After some comforting and clarification, it turned out that one pane of glass, out of six, had been broken. She had already taped cardboard over it and a glass repair-person had been called to fix it. When I arrived home the next day, I got the rest of the story. It turns out that what had broken the glass was a frozen ham which had been violently discharged from the freezer when it got in the way of putting an ice tray back in flat.
At this point I completely dissolved into laughter, much to the dismay of my roommate who was not yet ready to see the humor in the situation.
My initial image of this situation involved a shot-put style throwing of the ham resulting in a loud crash and dramatic shattering of glass as it hit the door. However, upon inspection of said ham, which had been returned to the freezer and shoved down the opposite side between the shelf and the wall of the freezer, the image entirely shifted. It was at that moment that I realized it was not in fact a ham at fault, but rather a ham steak was the culprit. I fell into even further hysterics as the mental image shifted from shot-put to a Frisbee style throw, causing a gentle crack that spread through the bottom of the glass with tiny bits of glass tinkling to the floor.
This is a picture of the culprit’s brother from the basement freezer. I cooked the original ham that day, to prevent any further aggression or bad blood between it and my roommate.
After inspecting the state of the door, I had to wonder what havoc a full size frozen ham would have wreaked on my back door. As I said before, there was only one pane of glass broken and a repair man was scheduled to assess the damage on Monday. It turns out the real damage in the situation was to be done by the repair man’s estimate of ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS to fix one broken pane.
I then did what I do with all of my homeowner questions. I called my dad. He suggested I try the hardware store and pay ten dollars to get a piece of glass cut and glue it in. $5.87 later, I had two pieces of glass.
Though this seemed like it would be a simple fix, everything that could have gone wrong, did. The molding to broke as I was removing it. The silicone had been sitting too long, so giant solid lumps had to be dug out of the tip. The silicone still wouldn’t come out properly, so I had to use a butter knife and spread it on like icing. All the tiny finishing nail had to be removed or bent in to allow the new piece of glass to fit in place. Eventually, between my roommate and myself, we accomplished it.
The glass is in, siliconed in place, and solid. It looks a little jacked up, but hey, I’ll take a $10 fix to a $150 dollar problem any day.
One day the molding will be replaced, but until then, I am completely at peace with the situation.