I’ve been on dish washing strike all weekend.
Apparently so has my daughter.
Even though it is her turn and has in point of fact, been her turn to do the dishes, since Friday.
Normally I would grind my teeth and give in to her non-complicity for the sake of my own sanity, if not for anyone elses.
But not this time.
As a result we now have a sink full of rinsed, but not washed, dishes (and yes I rinsed them but that’s as far as I would go).
Whilst I am adjusting rather poorly to this continuing phase of unremitting stubbornness from my daughter, the cats are adapting to it with amazing alacrity.
They seem to be taking the increasing stacks of bowls and plates that have begun turning my sink into a mountain of foraging cat like delights, as a sign that all of their kitty dreams have at last, come true.
I for my part, have given up on waving them away from the sink and have even resorted to purchasing of pre-packaged salads whilst grocery shopping today.
I never buy pre-packaged anything’s as a rule.
Especially not pre-packaged salads.
They taste funny.
Plasticky! (yes I know that’s not a real word, thank you spell check, but it ruddy well should be).
However I’m hedging my bets against my daughters stubbornness as I’m yet to witness any signs of either contrition or compliance coming off her and I do actually want to eat tonight!
So seeing as we no longer have any clean plates or bowls to eat out of, I thought, well, at least pre-packaged salads do come in their own convenient plastic, throw away bowls.
Win/Win.
Problem solved.
Well half solved.
At least for another night.
I wonder how long a mountain of un-cleaned dishes can remain in a sink before children services or some such other services will be called in?
Considering that my daughter now believes that a teenager (specifically her) being made to wash dishes is nothing short of the vacuous beginnings of modern-day ‘child labor’ , I’m surprised that she hasn’t called children services herself.
In the mean time, while I’m waiting for the flashing red and blue lights of her saviours to arrive, I’m avoiding the kitchen as much as I can.
I’m even tempted to move the kettle and all things caffeine related into the lounge room, just so that I no longer have to witness the evidence of our own unforgiving Aspie-ness, every time I enter that part of the house.
See, I’ve become so adverse to it all, that the ‘kitchen’ itself no longer has a name, instead it has become ‘that part of the house’.
Oh dear.
When will it end?
Perhaps I should turn this situation into one of those ‘Big Brother‘ type shows, where you my fellow bloggers all get a say as to who you think should be locked in the kitchen and made to do the dishes?
Vote M for mum or D for daughter.
You might also want to try voting C for cats if you think the mountain of un-washed dishes should be left in tact for their kitty benefits.
So vote now…..
P.S. Only one voter per reader, unless of course you wish to vote D for daughter, in which case you are here by cordially encourage to vote multiple times.
Wow this is just like reality TV.
Only, let’s call it “REALITY BLOGGING“. Related articles
- doing the dishes (guyandhisgirl.com)
- Being in Charge (eatalready.com)
- Self-Discovery (jimplunkettcole.wordpress.com)
- What to do When You’re Tired of a Messy Home (spaghettimom.wordpress.com)
- Washing Dishes (thequicknotthedead.wordpress.com)
- “Deconstruction Monday” (javaj240.wordpress.com)
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