Wednesday, January 19, 2011

small steps

I was pretty clever when I was an adolescent heading into my teen-years.
So clever, in fact, I didn't even know how I did it.
To this day, I still can't figure out how I got away with it.
Whatever my method was, it was smooth.  Crazy smooth.

I only did the dishes about as many times as I could count on one hand.
My. whole. young adult. life.

Whenever there were dishes to be done, and it was my turn to do them, I always had a good reason as to why I was not able to help carry the burden of that simple household duty.

Just got back from skating practice, therefore = exhausted.
Just got back from skating practice, therefore = I still have dinner yet to eat.
Big school project.
I'm MIA.
Writing a paper.
Currently at skating practice.
More homework.

Somehow.  Someway.  I didn't have to do them.

And I was glad.


(Even when my parents had a dishwasher machine.)  (That practically does them for you, anyway).

Maybe it's the thought of touching "old" food...
...someone else's glass....where they put their slimey....lips...
...smelling "old" food....
....feeling the gooey food that lingers too long on it's plate...
...yucky, dirty water....


No matter the reason, I detest that chore.

So you can most likely understand my step-father's reasoning when he laughed (until he cried) when he walked into the apartment my new groom and I were about to share for the next few years.

NO.  dishwasher.  I repeat:  NO dishwasher.

And the tiniest kitchen sink.  like.  ever.

He laughed.
And laughed.
And laughed.
Until he could see the intense insult upon my bright red face.
And then he laughed some more.

I still hate doing dishes.
And I probably will until I die.

My current plan of attack is:  avoidance.

But I am approaching them in a different light these days.
I'm beginning to see wisdom in the advice of the wisest woman who ever lived:  Gramma Willey.

"Wash all your dirty dishes at the end of each day.  
This way you go to bed with a clean sink and wake up to a clean sink."

I have fought this idea for 5 long years.  Simply guessed it...I hate doing dishes.

But it's all about small steps.
Eating an elephant one bite at a time.
Or eating the dishes??

My next challenge:  to vacuum regularly.

I'm beginning to think I just hate housework all together.  


  1. I agree with your grandma - something my mother instilled in me - the best thing ever to wake up to a clean sink in the morning - so worth the hassle of doing them at night :)

  2. I am so with you on this one; only I was not so lucky to avoid doing them while growing up!
    I often wonder at the women who claim how delightful it is to do housework. I have never felt that delight, to be honest. But I as well have conquered the "do the dishes before you go to bed" thing.
    As for laundry, ick. That's another matter altogether.


Love is to the heart what the summer is to the farmer's year - it brings to harvest all the loveliest flowers of the soul. -Unknown