Undomestic Goddess :: Part 312

And now, another episode of my life as an Undomestic Goddess...

Saw this illustration today and laughed right out loud at its truth. This applies to me 100 percent. I hate doing dishes!

I mean, really, I hate doing dishes.

I'd rather run a half marathon (ha) or give up ice cream (for a day at least, maybe a week) not to have to do dishes.

My early memories of doing dishes as a child then teen were not pleasant. First, as a child, I was one of 4 to 6 at home at the time -- eating meals and dirtying dishes. Plus all those pans to make the meals! Yuck. At that time, we did not have indoor plumbing so that added labor to the domestic chore that was already too laborious for me! I used to think -- and shame on me -- that Mom should be able to do them since she is home all day. Bad, bad thought.

As a teen, when there were 3 kids home, then 2, there still seemed like there were a ton of dishes to do. My mom was working part time then so we really needed to help out. The old "I'm all done and I'm just letting these pans soak" trick was all fine and good until we had to finish up before school in the morning.

Let me tell you this. There's nothing like waking up to the feeling of dipping your hands into a sink of now cold, somewhat slimy water. Yup. That'll make you a paper plate user the rest of your life!

It sort of did.

I rarely used "real" plates when I was single. And now, for the past dozen years at this house, I have been spoiled mercifully with a bonafide electric dishwasher. Ahhhhh.

So while I don't have to scrub too many dishes these days, the undomestic goddess in me still puts pans (and baking dishes) in the sink to "soak for awhile." Sometimes, I take the lazy Martha Stewart route (as hubby calls it) and wait for my "TV crew" to clean up after me. Other times, I'm a big girl, and rinse the pan out and put it in the dishwasher. All by myself.

At least I don't keep dirty dishes on the stove or hide them in the oven. When I was growing up, we'd try to do that, but then we'd open the oven and there'd be clean socks drying in there. Yup, there was a time I lived with no indoor plumbing and no clothes dryer.

I might as well rename this blog: My Life as a Hillbilly.