The Dishwasher

I’ll admit it.

I’m spoiled.

The day our dishwasher decided to quiet quit our household, I thought I could handle it with grace and efficiency.

How hard could it be with only two of us living in the house? Plus, we were going away for a weekend, so that only left a little over two weeks minus three days adventuring in space (yes, again – more on that later). One extra task couldn’t be that hard to adapt into my days for such a brief amount of time.

I meant well. I really did.

“We’re allowed one dinner plate, one lunch plate, one mug, one bowl, and one place setting per day” I declared.

“He” promptly forgot.

So did I.

Bowls started stacking up. Dishes piled underneath the bowls….to “soak.” One glass turned into four in the blink of an eye. I was sure they were multiplying like Tribbles or Gremlins! Don’t get them wet!

I almost told my husband to drink from a faucet like my cats insist on doing!

Don’t worry, they only like the bathroom sink. Apparently, a fresh bowl of water is not nearly as enticing as their own mini waterfall.

Where was I? Ah yes, the glasses.

There was a reason for my strict directives. I’m the backup dishwasher. (He’s the backup of the backup). Normally, I’m okay with this, but the tendinitis in my wrist and thumb is still healing. It’s better, but I still have adapting to do and want to crochet so badly that I’ve found myself reaching into a project bag just to feel the soft yarn and promising it I’ll be back.

I did it again, didn’t I? Where was I?

Ah yes. Strict usage of dishes and utensils. As I mentioned, that didn’t go as planned. To paraphrase a dear friend, the dishes are set in the sink to age. Put that way, it doesn’t seem so bad if an hour or so goes by before the dishes are washed.

Or maybe a couple of hours…but no more than that because they are wet and the glasses are multiplying again!

Thank goodness the new one will be here tomorrow.