A New Relationship

It's been a long time coming. I didn't grow up using a dishwasher and thus haven't really developed any kinship with the things. I've subscribed to the idea that a dish isn't cleaned properly unless scrubbed with my own two hands. Something my mother and grandmother instilled deeply within me. My husband doesn't care how they get cleaned, or how well they get cleaned. Just that they are cleaned.

So, with company visiting lately, I've been giving in to the idea that maybe my time could be better spent. Rather than slaving over a sink of hot water and being otherwise useless to anyone, I can wipe my son's nose quickly or take the bottle of Windex out of his hand without first having to rinse and dry my hands. Yes, he can now open safety latches.

I've had pleasing results so far. I know I will have withdrawals and need to get my hands wet, but that's what cookie sheets are for, right? For now, I'm developing a new relationship with a very helpful appliance I formerly ignored.