***Disclaimer:I am writing this post knowing full well that I may someday come to regret it so please don't hold me to this post for all time.
Once upon a time when Eric and I were first married we had lots of ideas about marriage, how things should be split exactly evenly. We strove to break gender barriers and show everyone else out there how it should be done (I am sure everyone appreciated that). Mostly we did quite well with shared responsibilities, but there was one area that neither of us cared to do-- let alone share. I know you are probably thinking some chore that involves animal clean-up, but no, it was....DOING THE DISHES.
The dreaded chore that never ended.
I hated doing dishes so completely that I would often think of ways to use as few dishes as possible when cooking. My food processor sat silently in the cupboard because I had deemed it un-washable (too many parts).There would be times (finals week) when we would literally use every clean dish we had before doing the dishes. Man that came with consequences. We went on like that for the first 4 years of marriage.
Then came the glorious day in 2005 when we moved into our first apartment with a dishwasher. For us it was as though a flock of doves riding on radiant beams of glowing light had carried the dishwasher straight from the heavens and placed it gingerly in the kitchen of our apartment. After that we had the good fortune of only renting places with dishwashers. All of those memories of crusty mountains of dishes (I may be exaggerating I don't want you to think we're filthy) were lost to the sands of time, or so we thought.
When we moved into our first home last month we noticed one big void, no dishwasher. I felt a tide of terror swelling in my gut. "Oh no," I thought." We simply can't have this!" I assumed that we would immediately install a dishwasher and move on with our lives, but something happened along the way...
I discovered that I don't mind doing dishes, in fact I kind of like it. There is something about the warm water, the quiet moment to myself, the view out the window. I am not really sure what it is, but I am happy for it. I don't know if this feeling is permanent or just a bump in the road, but for now it is a welcomed sentiment. Don't hold me to it, please.
How do you feel about doing the dishes?