Apparently, we have a magic cleaning machine in our house. Or at least Biff thought it was a magic cleaning machine, until he found out this weekend that it isn’t magic.
It’s just a dishwasher.
Growing up, one of our chores was to put the dishes in the dishwasher, and when done, unload them. I hated doing it, but I much preferred it to washing dishes by hand. However, in our house, it ended up pretty much being the same thing, because we had to scrub each and every dish before it went into the dishwasher. Which I thought was lame.
When I bought my own house, I realized the benefit of scrubbing the dishes before hand: not having to buy a new dishwasher! That pretty much cured me of my laziness, and I started scrubbing every single dish that went in there. It also kept down on my electricity bills, much as I detest admitting Mom was right.
When Biff moved in with me, I made sure he understood that he had responsibilities around the house, up to and including doing the dishes. (Sidebar: I HATE having dirty dishes in the sink. My favorite thing to do is to cook a meal and have all the dishes done before I even eat. I LOVE that. It makes me happy.) Biff, being a man, does not see the importance of having a sink devoid of dishes, so he likes to leave me presents, for which I am VERY ungrateful.
However, he has gotten much better at doing the dishes, especially after a few fits and tears have been thrown in the house. He just doesn’t see the necessity of scrubbing the dishes before he puts them in the dish washer. I often find large pieces of mushrooms or pasta in the drain of the machine. I clean it out and tell him he needs to at least RINSE the pans before he puts them in there. But I didn’t think anything about it when I came home and the dishwasher was running. I did, however, think it was odd that it was still running in the morning when I woke up.
“Umm, babe? The dishwasher is still on?”
“Well, ummm, well. I had to run it again.”
My first thought was: Oh shit. It’s broken. We are going to have to buy a new one.
When Biff saw the look of panic on my face, he said, “There is a thin layer of wax on everything, so I ran it again.”
“Wax?” Confusion. Wax, wax, wax…. Hmm, I can’t remember…oh, wait. He used wax in the garden yesterday.
“You put the WAXY pot in the dishwasher?!”
“Babe, it isn’t a magic cleaning machine! It won’t clean everything you put in there!”
I, for one, do NOT like silence, so I had to make my point clear: “I KNOW you aren’t mad at me, because I’m not the one that potentially ruined a load of dishes and the dishwasher. So instead of being pissed off at you, I am going to sit here and laugh at you. And make a sign that reads: ‘This is NOT a magic cleaning machine!’ ”
And tell everyone in the world about it.