You pick up the almighty rag, the scrubber, and the soap. Gee, this should be easy, you think to yourself. However, as you near the sink and peer inside, you experience clammy palms, a sinking heart, and a nerve attack. Right in front of you is dish upon dirty dish, all encrusted with hardened food and a dirty sink. It's a good thing we have a dishwasher!!! You jump to conclusions too quickly, though. Your mother just announces that the dishwasher is pretty much broken, and you get to wash the dishes by hand.
That is how I feel every time I am assigned to do the dishes. Thankfully I have four other brothers whom do them in a specific order, but my turns come way too quickly. Whenever I gaze upon the sink full of dishes, the scattered glasses, the cluttered appliances, the dirty counters, the littered floor, the dusty blinds, the finger-printed refrigerator, I experience a wave of deep anxiety. Oh how I hate the dishes. I hate it with a passion. I abhor it. It is horrendous, it should be illegal. Against the law to make your children wash dishes by hand. I want robots that will do my bidding whenever I command of them, and I want to have the power to blast those dishes to bits.
Ha. No, I'm kidding. I actually have a set wishlist/plan that I would have liked my family to do, but those boys are so ignorant and lazy, they won't do it. Trust me. They won't. I continue to tell them to rinse out their cereal bowls, because everybody knows that if you leave cereal and milk mixed together without being rinsed out in the bowl, it hardens and sticks like a mother hanging off a cliff. Well anyway, if my family would just rinse off the dishes they had used, stack them neatly, and then let the person who has dishes do the rest. OH Better yet, just wash, rinse, and dry their dishes they just used and put it away. It'll make it easy, and no one will have to fret over doing dishes. Simple. Pragmatic? No. However, they'll just throw the dishes into the sink with sauce or sticky substances all over it, not thinking twice to rinse it off. Leaving the person who needs to labor over the dishes should be respected that night, and not have to scrape and scrub and sweat at trying to remove that little mother--I mean cereal piece. Who here agrees with me? Say I!
BUT because the nature of dishes is so gross, so depressing and horrendous, I retch at the sight of them each turn. I have to groan, I have to WORK. I have to dry, I have to wash, I have to rinse, I have to put them away, I have to clean the counters, I have to sweep the floor, I have to get my fingers all pruney just so people can eat off of the dishes. You know what people in Africa do to eat their food? Yeah, they use two fingers and eat it from the table. Yay! We should all just do that.
Wow. Imagine doing those. I think I had a heart attack when I saw that....that poor poor man.... Let us all have ten seconds of mourning for this man's laborious task.
WELL!!! BUB BYE!
Over and Out,