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Tuesday, February 17, 2009

I love...

Dirty dishes. I know, call me crazy. It's actually a love-hate relationship. I don't actually love dirty dishes, nor the act of washing them, but I love what comes before and what comes after. I love the process of creating a meal. I love eating the meal. I love feeling fully satisfied from something I did.

I actually don't like doing the dishes. At all. But I can't stand a sink full of dirty dishes even more, and it forces me to just get them done! I admit it--they add up as I attempt to see if anyone else will just volunteer to do them. I even tried to bargain with my hubby one time. I told him that whoever made the meal, the other would do the clean up. I thought it a fair trade. He didn't like it since it would nearly always put him in charge of the dishes (okay, I can't say I blame him--if you don't like doing the dishes either I can see how that wouldn't fare well). So it was a no-go and he still helps out too, but more often than not, the dishes are left to me. It's probably better; I'm anal when it comes to things like loading the dishwasher. It has to be done just right (unloading too).

Even more, once the dishes have been washed, or put in the dishwasher and started, I get to see the bottom of my sink-clean. I love that feeling. It inspires me to continue cleaning the rest of the kitchen, scrubbing down the counters, sweeping the floor (which already happens twice a day with the little kids), which then leads to vacuuming the rug, and while it's out I will vaccuum the family room, which leads to the living room, and after starting work on just a sink full of dirty dishes I end up with a clean house. Is anything better than a clean house? Not much.

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