|The Dreaded Dishes|
Every once in a while when my mom was feeling extra nice/insane/bored she would allow me to "play" wash the dishes in the kitchen sink. I would pull up a stool and fill the sink full of water. Then I would take a cup or two and she would squeeze a little soap into the water to make suds. I would splish and spash in the water and pour it back and forth between the cups.
When the opportunity presented itself, and my mom was distracted by my younger sister or brother for a minute, I would add a squeeze more soap . . . ok half a bottle or so. Now I had mountains of bubbles! By the time she returned from changing my brother's diaper or pulling my sister back down off the bookself, I had created my masterpiece. I would be soaked from head to toe (bonus no need for a bath that day) the kitchen floor would be flooded (it needed to be mopped anyway) and there would be bubbles splashed all over the walls and counter tops. (I was thorough when I "cleaned!")
I don't remember the exact day she finally relented and allowed me to do the dishes for real. I've probably blocked that traumatic incident out of my memory. I quickly learned that doing the dishes "for real" was very different from playing with bubbles. Real dirty dishes were . . . well . . . dirty. In fact they were downright gross. Disgusting! Yuck! And so dishes became my regular household chore. It was my task to load the dishwasher and my sister and brother shared the task of unloading it.
Such is the lot of the oldest child.
I had the most difficult "half" all to myself and they got to share the easy "half." Don't get any ideas that because we had a dishwasher I didn't really have to wash dishes. The dishes still had to be scrubbed clean before they were placed in the dishwasher. Honestly the hard work is already done before the dishwasher takes over. My dad also had this crazy idea that pots and pans couldn't be washed in the dishwasher. They had to be washed (horror of all horrors) by hand. It's really hard for me to even talk about those dark days.
Maybe subconsciously this childhood trauma of being the designated dishwasher has lent itself to my aversion to dish washing now. Honestly doing the dishes is my least favorite household task. If you know me at all, or have read any of my posts, or even the title of my blog, you will know that's saying a lot. A better way to phrase that would be that washing dishes is my most abhorred, detestable household chore. Yes, it even beats out scrubbing my nemesis the toilet. Maybe because the toilet doesn't take as long to scrub as the dishes seem to.
I think I also do dishes a little differently than many people. It seems like there are people out there who fill a sink up with water and submerge the dishes in that water. Then . . . get this . . . THEY STICK THEIR HANDS IN THAT FILTHY SLIMY DISGUSTING WATER! I know! I was shocked when I discovered this. Some people use gloves which seems like a good solution until you stick your hand a little too far down and the glove fills up with that FILTHY SLIMY DISGUSTING WATER! *Gag*
No no. That just won't do.
I have to have scalding hot water running. That way if I accidentally touch any of the ick I can simply scald off the layer of skin that came into contact with it. I then grasp a tiny edge of the dish, whichever edge is "cleanest," and hold it under the water. If necessary I will use a handled scrub brush or even a butter knife to scrape the dish. I like using the sprayer hose to blast off the crud but it is almost impossible to use since the plumbers worked on that sink and managed to wrap the hose around the pipes. Now it only pulls out about four inches. Once all the stuck on stuff is off I put it in the dishwasher and proceed to the next dish. If it doesn't come off it soaks. As in I fill the dish with water not the whole sink. Then I can use a utensil to tip the yucky water off before I pick up the dish. Also everything goes in the dishwasher. Everything! If it doesn't go in it doesn't get washed. If it's washed by hand it isn't clean. Pots, pans, wooden handled knives, china, stemware, you name it. If it breaks then it's time to buy a new one. This time a dishwasher safe version.
I dream of those dishwashers they show in commercials. The ones that clean the dishes even though they weren't washed before they were put in. That have built in disposals and multiple water jets to spray the dishes from every angle. I'm sure they are really a myth, like unicorns and housecleaning services. But I can dream!
Now go check out Jenn's post and decide for yourself. Are we dish wash hating twins separated at birth or what?!
Don't forget . . .
You my dear readers, get to be part of something very special. In celebration of this most glorious day of all days on the calendar Jenn from Coolest Family on the Block and I are teaming up to host the first annual No Housework Party! Oh yes. Not much will be different for Jenn and I since we avoid housework every chance we get…but for those of you dedicated domestic goddesses…we’re giving you the day off!
This Thursday, April 7, stop by and link up your post.