Okay, well not exactly like that, but our dishwasher is broken. I would like to contend that one really doesn't realize how many dishes one's family uses on a daily basis until one's dishwasher is broken.
Tim spent about thirty minutes doing dishes yesterday. I did today's batch while Tim dried. I broke a sweat. I don't know if that says more about how many dishes I actually washed or about the kind of physical shape I'm in.
My hands were getting pruny while I scrubbed dried salsa out of a bowl. The longer I scrubbed, the more sorry I felt for myself and my poor, miserable, desperate lot in life.
By the time I moved on to the coffee mugs, I'd managed to end my pity party and shift focus to what a spoiled rotten brat I am.
Instead of complaining about my broken dishwasher or the cost we will incur to fix it, I with be thankful for:
- The dishes
- The friends who bought us the dishes as wedding presents
- The hot water I am washing the dishes in
- The food we ate off the dishes
- The friends we shared the meal with
- The sweet husband who would dry dishes next to me any day of the week
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