Showing posts with label dishwasher. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dishwasher. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Dishes & Bubbles & Water...Oh My!

Things were just simpler when I was growing up. Technology-wise. We didn't have all the gadgets and gizmos that make our lives easier and yet more complicated today. No video games. No remote controls. No “Roomba’s.” No email. No facebook.

We didn’t get an automatic dishwasher until I was about 11. By then my Mother had met my “real Dad” (more on that later) and they had been dating for a little while. For Christmas (?) one year, he got us an automatic dishwasher. We lived in a townhouse and had a very small, galley kitchen. The dishwasher would sit, when not in use, at one end of the kitchen. The kitchen and back hall formed an “L” shape. One end led to the back door and ½ bath and on the other, at the corner of the “L” was the door to the basement.

Before we got the automatic dishwasher, I was the “automatic” dishwasher. I didn’t mind the chore actually. As a little girl I loved playing in the sink water. I would squirt in WAY too much soap and have mounds of bubbles to play in. Each dish and glass would become one of my “babies” that were dirty and needed a bath. Or they became containers that needed to be filled and refilled from one another. I would endlessly pour water and bubbles from one container to the other, splashing water everywhere.

Until I was 12 it was just my Mother and me at home most of the time, so there weren’t very many dishes to do. Even so, before we got the dishwasher, I would stand at the sink, on a chair, washing dishes forever! I didn’t stop until my Mother would come in and make me! By the time I was done, my fingers were all pruney (is that a word?), the counters were soaked and the floor was slippery! It was actually a great way to keep the miniscule kitchen floor spotless as my Mother had to mop it up every time!

Now, my kids whine, when they are on kitchen duty, if a sibling didn’t rinse and load their own dishes. They are in a hurry to get to their games, their shows, their computers. I’m guilty of that too, now. I “have” to check my email, facebook, blog lists. I have been totally sucked in, assimilated as it were.

Maybe the Amish have it right after all.