My husband, my hero...

So, if you've read my last few posts, you'll know that I've been having a rough time. Between school and sick kids, life this last few weeks has been rough.

I wasn't expecting much more for today; after all, the baby was up all night with the stuffed nose, sore ears, teething pain. It was pretty much a repeat of yesterday (whining for everything, yet wanting nothing), except that today I was sans husband and had the addition of two daycare kids.

Things were going as well as could be expected, all things considered. We had lunch, put the dishes in the dishwasher and went for naps. All was well with the world. Shortly before nap is done, I go to put the clean dishes away. I opened the door of the dishwasher, and what do I find?? Steamy, dirty dishes. "hmmm," I think to myself, "I'll just run it again." Run it again, and once more, I have hot, steamy, dirty dishes.

*sigh*

You must realize that I am not a woman of "labour". I mean, I'm not one of those women who wears an apron, with perfect hair and makeup who bakes 5 course meals, raises perfect children and has a spectacularly clean house. I'm good at all of these things, but not all at the same time. Lately, I'm concentrating on the kids thing - it is, after all, my job.

So, when faced with the dilemma of having to wash my dishes by hand, I nearly died. You see, I washed dishes by hand for 8 years. Now that I have a dishwasher, my opinion is "if it doesn't go in the dishwasher, it shouldn't come into my house." I am not that kinda lady. These hands were made for diamonds, not dishes. Nope, not me. My husband affirms this; he has told me on numerous occasions that my blood type should be "O-la-la".


I call him in a panic..."Babe, I've been doing dishes for 10 minutes....by hand!!!....Yes, I know I used to do dishes by hand before. But now I have a dishwasher, and it's BROKEN!!!"

He comes home and looks at it and says "hmm. It's not working." (yeah! that's what I said!!)

I go off to do my other duties...I take care of my chosen children, as well as my own. I straighten up the play room and try to conceive how I will now live my life having to do all the dishes by hand. I resign myself to the fact that I will no longer care about the environment, and will just go the disposable way. Plastic forks and spoons, paper plates and cups...Yup..that's how I will function.

Once my chosen children go home to their families, I wander upstairs to find that my husband has completely dismantled the dishwasher. Racks and bits and tubes are all over the kitchen floor. "What are you doing?!?!" I ask, "You're not a licensed technician! We're screwed!!!"

I eat supper, with my stomach doing flops...I imagine family gatherings with a Turkey on a bed of paper plates and a giant black garbage bag in the corner...I start having palpitations.

After supper is done, I begin preparing for the tedious task ahead...not only do I have to do the dishes from supper, but from breakfast and lunch, too. I pout pretend it doesn't bother me. Meanwhile, hubby puts back the pieces and sets it for a "test run".

IT WORKS!!!


Never doubted he could do it for a minute!