Mr. P has always hated doing the dishes. I’ve never quite understood his aversion to them. I could understand if there were a lot of dishes, but usually when there is a big clean-up, I am doing those dishes. The only ones I ask him to wash are his individual dishes if he has made dinner for himself, a drink, etc. Rather than taking the 20 or so seconds it takes to wash that single dish or cup, he lets them pile up until it does become hard to wash them.
Last week, I had piled up the dishes from my baking adventures. I put off doing the dishes for a few hours and when I went to the kitchen a few hours later, I was shocked to find they were already done. I even opened up the dishwasher to make sure they were indeed sitting on the racks drying. I immediately eyed him suspiciously, wondering what he had done with my husband. And of course, to prove he was indeed my husband, he admitted that while he had done the ones in the sink, there were still old ones hidden near his desk…
