With the exception of my meltdown over dirty dishes in the cabinet I would say last night's dinner was a success.
What is about our dishwasher that no one seems to be able to unload it with clean plates and glasses? Can the family not feel the grossness on them?
Do y'all suffer this phenomenon? I had a lovely dinner prepared of chicken fajitas, refried beans, spanish rice [homemade apple pie for dessert] and SURPRISE! I had nothing to serve it on because every plate I took out of the cabinet was still dirty.
Cleaning the kitchen does not mean "I put everything where it was supposed to go." It means "I put everything where it was supposed to go WITHOUT FOOD STILL STUCK TO IT."
How can it be possible to not notice Sunday's pot roast still decorating the plate? Or feel the crap on the outside of the glass you just placed into the cabinet?
Moms certainly need the subtitle of "If you want it done right - do it yourself."
Here's the crux of the matter - I can't do it myself and it peeves me off. I can't unload the dishwasher or clean the kitchen most days. When I can you best believe the family notices. "Wow, the kitchen looks great. Must've been Mom." What is it about us that we have the "touch"? Still, it shouldn't be such a big deal to actually get clean dishes put away, but I could not find one plate last night.
I gave up and served them on the plates they had unloaded I just didn't care. I strategically placed the food to cover the spots on the plates.
And I didn't eat. I lost my appetite.
There have been so many considerations made due to my illness, but I will be damned if I am going to go to paper plates and plastic cups just because no one can manage to figure out how to load and unload a dishwasher.
Yes, yes - I know there are so many more major issues in the world than a dirty plate in my house, but when your world is compartmentalized into four walls and the ability to maybe cook a few days a week to celebrate two special occasions those plates take precedence. I wanted it nice, I wanted it special.
It just felt like I had asked too much. And how can that be too much to ask?
I know I should just give Pooldad his netbook back and return to the comics but I am not feeling the happy, happy, joy, joy right now. Forgive me.
My blog. My rules.
[And yes, this was more a rant than a ramble. See the previous four words. Best I can do.]