Our house doesn't have a working dishwasher, and with only the two of us,
it seems like an unnecessarily costly option anyway.
This means that the only way to clean the dishes is with good old fashioned elbow grease.
I know the consensus is that nobody likes doing dishes.
If that's truly the case, then call me Nobody!
There's just something cathartic in the repetitive, almost mindless task,
and you get the satisfaction of immediately seeing results from the time spent cleaning.
When I first was injured and told to avoid prolonged standing,
Husband wordlessly took up the task of doing the dishes.
I was concerned at first, imagining something like this would happen:
I proffered up my guilt at not being able to do the thing I enjoyed and I knew inconvenienced him.
Husband simply shrugged, "Like I didn't need clean dishes before you came along?"
Yes, that was the face he gave me.
I call it "Dino face" when he gives me that puzzled look.
I get it a lot, especially for saying ridiculous things.
Regardless of his judgement, I am super grateful he does this for me/us.
With that, here's a couple pics of him enjoying himself while I tried to sneak in to take his picture.
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| SHIT IS SLIPPERY |
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| Dooo-do-dum-dum-daaah |
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