a storyteller's blog about finding beauty in the ordinary
Monday, October 3, 2011
The dishes are piled up in the sink and counter from a hastily prepared dinner. The dishwasher is on the fritz and my sweet engineer is out of town and unable to rescue me from my appliance-less state. I'm well aware that soap and water work just as well, and probably better, then my tempermental dishwasher. But scrubbing each dish by hand takes a lot of time. I know that that is therapeutic for some people, and if you know any of those people, feel free to send them to my house. I don't mind. The kids are in bed and I am finally sitting down with a cup of tea knowing that I have loved them well today. Instead of cleaning up after dinner, I scrubbed my little girl's hair and chatted about friends and recess. I took a turn sitting and watching my little man impress me with his snowboard tricks on his xbox. (and wincing slightly everytime his dude took a spectacular crash because I was imagining that happening in real life). Maybe I should leave my dishes as a monument to time well spent... Now, how can I talk myself out of doing the laundry?