Among the many hats I wear is that of what my friend Jessica Greenbaum would call “domestic scientist,” her name for the person who stays home and tries to figure out, through tireless experimenting, the proper temperature at which to serve a roast, the best way to patch a screen door, how to interpret the mysteries of NY recycling (milk cartons go with glass bottles and cans, of course) and so on. A housewife, they used to call us, or in my case, househusband.

(Jess herself is a fine poet, as well as loving wife, mother of two beautiful girls, active community member and so on. And when I’m not being a domestic scientist I am teaching, writing two books — with one hand! — giving moral support and nourishment to my wife and children and trying to save Brooklyn and the world, not necessarily in that order.)

I don’t think those who are not also domestic scientists realize just how much time and effort are involved in some of the most mundane but necessary tasks. Take my kitchen sink — please. We remodeled our kitchen back when Saddam was still in his spidey hole and among the new hardware we installed was a Leonardo faucet with a sprayer attachment (the Davinci 970, for those playing at home) the architect loved. It has a cool little button on the sprayer itself — push down for a shower effect, pull up for garden-hose stream — which works great. Until it doesn’t. Which turned out to be about three months after we bought it.

After several emails to architect and several calls to AF Supply, the Whitney Museum of plumbing products, I was offered a replacement. Which broke about six months later, as well. The button comes off with no way of putting it back on. Now I am in negotiations with AF for a different model, with phone calls being exchanged about once a week. Developing story. Meanwhile, Saddam’s trial is dragging on and the judge has gone on record telling the defendant that he is not a dictator. This judge is becoming the Lance Ito of Iraq…

I guess I’ll have to find another way to wash my spinach.