Dishes

Dishes. I hate doing them. I walked through the kitchen and there is this huge pile of dishes that need to be done. The good person in me says that I should start washing and spare my grandma from the hassle. Yet did I follow through? Absolutely not. Even for my grandma, who I love with all of my heart, I could not bring myself to start washing. Does that make me a bad person? Possibly.

I could try to justify myself and say that if we didn’t have a dinky little sink that’s barely useful and instead had one of those nice big farmhouse sinks I would feel more inclined to do the right thing, but that would be a bold-faced lie. I just hate doing dishes. If it’s a few glasses or plates or something, I don’t mind. Big piles that are overflowing and starting to take over the counters on the other hand? I cannot bring myself to touch. We need a dishwasher. Seriously.

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