Why Dishwashers Are...

... Basically Useless

I am kind of weird about certain things. I like to feed my children homemade snacks. It doesn't mean we never pick up fruit snacks or Little Debbies. I'd just rather bake, most of the time. I also like to do my own dishes... by hand. We lived in our current house for about eight months before I used the dishwasher. I don't like spots on my silverware, and I don't like re-washing half the dishes, because they don't look very clean. But sometimes the dishwasher comes in handy.

This afternoon, I was exhausted. I have heard it said that it would be nice if babies came with instruction manuals. Frankly, it would have been nice if Ian had come with a cow. He likes to eat... a lot. I am pretty sure he took only occasional breaks between 4 am and noon. I was dozing sometimes, so he may have been, too.

At about quarter after twelve, it occurred to me that the other people who live in my house might want to eat, too, so I started making pizza... and breadsticks... and cookies. We actually sat down around 2:00, because I did much of this with only one hand.

After we ate, I realized a couple of key things. First, Ian had fallen asleep at some point, draped over my arm. I set him down. And, second, the kitchen was a mess. Ordinarily, this is a pretty good combination, because I have both hands free to clean. But I didn't want to clean. I wanted to sleep! Sleeping wasn't exactly an option, so I decided I at least wanted to spend some times with my bigger kids, while the baby slept. I quickly swept the floor and loaded the dishes into the dishwasher.

I squeezed... and shook... and hit the container that was supposed to have dishwasher soap in it, but almost nothing came out. So I figured I might as well just load the thing up with regular dish soap. If you use a dishwasher regularly, you are probably already laughing, but I hadn't realized what a humorous adventure I was about to have.

I quickly checked my e-mail... wrote a response... and returned to the kitchen... which was, of course, covered in suds at this point. I stood there feeling kind of stunned for a moment, and then I told Phil that the kitchen was covered in soap suds. He was willing to blame the kids for messing with the dishwasher, but I confessed. Then I shook my head, laughed, and started mopping up the suds with dish towels. Caleb came into the kitchen and laid down on the floor on his belly so he could watch.

As of this writing, I still haven't actually opened the dishwasher. I am afraid of what I will find. In the end, I don't think it saved me any time to use the dishwasher, today, and that is irritating, because I am still tired, and I'd like to go to sleep!

I'm not sure there is a great moral to this story. Lots of wonderful, upstanding people use dishwashers. But I guess it doesn't pay, for me at least, to cut corners. I need to do the job right the first time, or I end up with a real mess.

Being a mommy to four little people is exhausting sometimes. I think I need to invest in more frozen pizza.

Lisa