When I was in college, I remember being amazed at how often the sink was full of dishes. And how often I found myself being the only one to clean all the dishes… It often felt as soon as I left the room the sink would magically refill itself.
And then a few years later I became a mom.
My oldest two kids are now becoming more and more independent in the kitchen (which I love) but it also seems to be increasing our dirty dishes each day exponentially. The last few months, over the holiday season when they’ve had more free time, there has especially been a big increase. And so, I remembered this silly poem I wrote ages ago and decided to share here for anyone else you knows the pain. 🙂
Who invented dirty dishes?
And do they know they never stop?
That they just keep getting dirtier
and piling on the spot?
The water makes my fingers wrinkle
and it never stays too hot.
And the dirtier the dishes,
the dirtier the pots.
And everyone I know
seems to have a dish disease –
every time they see a dirty dish
it makes them sneeze and sneeze.
So here I stand once again,
with dishes stacked up to my chin,
and here’s my wish, my wish to you,
–wouldn’t self-cleaning dishes do?