The husband did the dishes tonight. MMMMmmmmm. The best dessert after a good meal is not eating chocolate, or candy or sweet cereal. It’s definitely devouring the joy of my boys do the dishes together. I love hearing Atrain’s excitement when he empties the silverware basket into the correct slots in the drawer. I love listening to the clanging plates someone else is loading them into the dishwasher. Yes, and that blessed sound of swishing water whisking across the dirty dinnerware. It just sounds like relief.
When I was young I didn’t understand why my mother thought the dishes were such a big deal. I hated it when she would put up a stink about whose turn it was to load or unload the dishwasher. And I remember being so annoyed by hearing the “if everyone would just wash their own plate and put it in the dishwasher themselves we wouldn’t even have to worry about the dishes” lecture for the millionth time. I was such a punk.
I had no idea how many times she loaded and unloaded that stinking dishwasher every day. I didn’t realize how difficult it must have been to clean up after a family of 8. I couldn’t understand what a symbol of appreciation the dishes were to her. Now I know. “Mirror, mirror on the wall…I am my mother after all” (anonymous). Now I love hearing my family’s hands say “thanks for all you do, momma” whenever they’re washing the darn dishes. Thanks, guys.
Oh, Mel. It DOES feel like gratitude, doesn't it??
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