For The Dish Washed Clean


I trace the faltering American family to the invention of the automatic dishwasher.  What ever has happened to the human dishwasher with two hands full of wash cloth and scrubber, alongside a dish dryer armed with a towel?  Where is the list on the refrigerator of whose turn is next, and the accountability if a family member somehow shirks their washing/drying responsibility?

No longer do family members have to cooperate to scrub clean glasses, dishes and utensils, put them in the dish rack, dry them one by one and place them in the cupboard where they belong.  If the washer isn’t doing a proper job, the dryer immediately takes note and recycles the dirty dish right back to the sink.  Instant accountability. I always preferred to be the dryer.  If I washed, and my sister dried,  we’d never get done.  She would keep recycling the dishes back for another going-over.  My messy nature exposed.

The family conversations started over a meal often continue over the clean up process  when concentrating on whether a smudge is permanent or not.   I learned some important facts of life while washing and drying dishes that I might not have learned otherwise.  Sensitive topics tend to be easier to discuss when elbow deep in soap suds.  Spelling and vocabulary drills are more effective when the penalty for a missed word is a snap on the butt with a dish towel.

Modern society is missing the best opportunity for three times a day family together time.  Forget family “game” night, or parental “date” night, or even vacations.  Dish washing and drying at the sink takes care of all those times when families need to be communicating and cooperating.

It is time to treat the automatic dishwasher as simply another storage cupboard and instead pull out the brillo pads, the white cotton dishtowels and the plastic dishrack.  Let’s start tonight.

I think it is your turn first…

One thought on “For The Dish Washed Clean

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