Dirty Dishes

There’s a lot on Earth to hate. Some people. Some places. When you get gum stuck to your shoes. Paying a lot of money for a dinner that wasn’t good. Waiting for the dryer to finish drying your clothes only to realize it’s broken and you’ve been waiting an hour and your clothes are still wet. We can all come together in our hate for certain things. I would like to voice my particular hate on dirty dishes. They’re everywhere. They fill my sink, they cover my table, I even found a water bottle that was filled with old clumpy milk behind my couch cushion the other day. They stink, they’re covered in other people’s germs and once I clean them, they are back the very next day. In my house, I do the dishes a lot. But, if you ask my family, they would say they all do the dishes a lot. That’s how many dishes we have. A lot. Before you say, “well why don’t you just get a dishwasher?” I have one! And guess what? It runs hot water and soap on the dishes but that’s about all it does. We have to pre clean the dishes before we put them in the dishwasher. Of course we waste more water doing that, of course it takes more time, and of course that’s not what it said on the box when we bought the dishwasher. Okay I’m lying, we didn’t buy the dishwasher, it came with our place. But I’m sure when the dishwasher was purchased it was not proudly displaying, “Twice the time! Half the clean!” 

It’s disgusting, having to scrap and chisel other people’s scraps from the plates. And don’t even get me started if you eat oatmeal and have to soak your bowl for a while to unstick all the little oats from the side. Now not only am I looking at a dirty dish, I’m looking at the disgusting morsels someone couldn’t scoop into their mouth floating around in a cesspool of water and oats. Blech. I know that dishes are technically a chore but I actually don’t mind some chores. I don’t mind folding clothes. I don’t mind vacuuming. Heck, I don’t even mind cleaning the bathroom as much as I despise doing the dishes. The way the water makes your fingers wrinkle up because I never think it’ll take as long as it does so why bother with the gloves? How you have to sometimes use your fingernails to uncrust the melted cheese someone decided to microwave onto a plastic plate. Then how sometimes you finally finish a long bout of doing dishes and want to unwind by taking a nice, hot shower only to discover that you’ve used all the hot water doing the disgusting germ populated dishes, and there’s not a drop of hot water left for you to enjoy! Maybe someday someone will invent a dishwasher for the dishwasher. For now, I begrudgingly hold that title. Not as great as my ‘lock myself in my room, turn on the latest true crime doc and fold the laundry’ title I also secretly proudly maintain. 


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