Death by Dirty Dishes

The dishwasher has been dead since February.  It’s killing me.

That’s all.

———–

On a lighter note, here’s a picture of a flower that I took on the side of the road today.

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11 thoughts on “Death by Dirty Dishes

  1. You certainly have a way with words. The picture of the dishes is ok.
    If a picture is worth a thousand words, then the picture of the flower is it.

    • Darling Husband does at least half of the dishes, but even with two able bodied adults washing all these dishes, it’s driving me a little crazy. I just can’t keep up with them. I’m considering turning us into hunter/gatherers, heavy on the gatherers side. “Go forage for breakfast in the backyard, kids.”

      • You mean Tweedledeedee and Tweedledeedum? Yeah, right. Glass plates and slippery soap? I guess one way not to have to do dishes is to have the kids break all the dishes.

        I won’t trust them with my slippery glass stuff for another 2-3 years.

        I used to think like you, that I’d have kids and they’d do all the work. Boy, was that a lie. Don’t believe it.

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