The Dishes

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So I finally let her do the dishes. She’s been asking to do them for a while now. I don’t know why I was hanging on to this particular chore? Maybe I felt like this was the last passage before I had to relent to the fact she’s growing up. Like I was picking something completely arbitrary to withhold, because if I let her do it she would no longer be my little girl. She’s been making her bed since she 4, puts her clothes away, does laundry and even makes breakfast for her and her brother in the morning on weekends. She’s already pretty grown up. But the dishes, just seemed like one step too far. We all have our nonsensical things we fixate on, I guess mine’s the dishes.

She, and her reluctant chore-doing brother, will also have to do these dishes by hand until they move out of the house. Since moving out of our traditional home last June, we’ve gone without a dishwasher.On purpose. I haven’t missed it to be honest with you. I grew up without a dishwasher. In fact, I didn’t have a dishwasher until Hubby and I purchased our first home. I liked it. Truly. Some cool novelty that made daily life easier. But after a while it became just another thing that had be done. It wasn’t cool anymore.

Growing up I hated washing the dishes. HATED IT! So much so, I began to purposely wash the dishes badly in order to get out of doing them. I dried instead. That’s where I shined.

Now, I liked doing them. It’s like hanging your clothes out on the line to dry, life just seems to slow down a bit. You can listen to the noises of the house. Sway your hips to the radio, chat with your family, or think of nothing at all.

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