After six years of listening to me to bitch about the lack of a dishwasher, Santa aka Sam bought a dishwasher for my kitchen. YAHOO! Actually, Sam probably quit listening to me bitch about it after the first couple of months into our relationship. The first time I washed dishes at the ranch I asked Sam, "Where is the dishwasher?" He replied, "When I remodeled the kitchen, my ex-wife assured me she would do the dishes and did not want a dishwasher." I told him to call her up and tell her that there were dishes in the sink for her to wash. ha.ha.
I tend to make a lot of noise when I'm cleaning the kitchen. If Sam or Kris try to carry conversation with me from the other room I cannot hear a word being said. I don't mind cooking but there is no glory in cleaning up the mess. I've broken a few glasses and even a bowl and a plate. We use paper plates at least 90% of the time which saves me a few minutes at the sink. So it goes without saying that I feel like I qualify for a dishwasher.
A couple of weeks ago I caught Sam opening the under-counter cabinets. I immediately jumped to the conclusion that he was checking out the orderliness (or lack of) in my cabinets. I tend to get defensive about that kind of thing. He told me to chill and take five minutes. He confessed a couple of days later that he was thinking about buying a dishwasher as my Christmas present. It was up to me to go online and do some research on dishwashers. My excitement lasted all of three minutes into my investigation because there is a lot more to dishwashers than picking out the right color and brand of machine. I told Sam to surprise me and put the upmost faith into his selection.
As my sisters and I were en route from South Texas on Friday, my cell phone rang. It was Sam and the first words out of his mouth when I answered the phone were, "I hate you." He was sitting in the parking lot of Lowe's and gave me the lowdown on what a pain in the ass it was to buy a dishwasher. Kelli had gone through the same thing when selecting a dishwasher for her house. I turned the phone over to her and let them decide on what kind of machine I needed.
I am now the proud owner of a dishwasher. It is sitting under my carport in 14 yards of bubble wrap. And I suspect it will be after Christmas before Marshall and Sam can coordinate a time to install it in the kitchen. It took me six years to get the dishwasher. Wonder how long it will take to get that store room?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
I'm jealous. Ours went out two years ago and I've turned into such a skinflint I won't pop for a new one. I tell myself that doing the dishes every night saves water and builds character, but sometimes I do wonder who much more character I need.
er, make that "how"
And thank Andy for the typo. This cat is attached to me with Velcro these days.
We had so many water leak issues in this house when we moved in 10 years ago that I never tried to use the dishwasher. Once Linsday came along it became a great place to store her arts and crafts paraphernalia.
Post a Comment