The Dishes Just Won’t Wash Themselves

November 2, 2011

in How to be a Housewife

A man came to my home yesterday, laid down on my kitchen floor, and made me the happiest woman in the Entire world.

Had I known it would be that easy?  I’d have called my landlord months ago.  You know, back when we first moved in.  And realized that our dishwasher was more adept at storing the turkey roaster than actually washing it.

I know.  You’re thinking to yourselves, why wouldn’t you call the landlord?  It sounds like a brilliant plan.


We’ve never rented an old house from a responsible landlord before.  Don’t get me wrong, our last landlord was Amazing.  He was always there the same day to fix any little issue.  Or just, you know, to help us figure out how to turn the heat on.  (Yes, sadly this was no the first time we had that issue..although it wasn’t the circuit breaker then.  Just the pilot light.  Whatever that is.)  But we weren’t renting an old house from him.  So its nothing major ever broke down except for the heater we couldn’t figure out how to turn on.

And we have rented old houses before.  Ones built before either the Big Man or I were born.  Although the fact that this house was built After I was born and now qualifies as “old” is a scary, scary thought…  But they were in college towns.  Where the landlord could care less about whether or not our remotely-controlled heat turned on in mid-January or mid-May.  We were lucky to have a roof over our heads, and if we wanted heat in our basement apartment we could just rub a couple of sticks together for all they cared.

So to be renting a house old enough for the original appliances to be at an age where the humane thing to do would be just to drag them out back and shoot them at the first sign of trouble, from a landlord who actually gives a hoot?  Is a novel experience for us.  Which is why it took us forever to even entertain the idea of calling him up to let him know that the dishwasher actually managed to make the dishes dirtier than they were to begin with.

Of course, once I got fed up with doing the dishes by hand after every meal realized that we didn’t have to live this way?  I immediately picked up the phone.  Then took a quick glance at the house.  And put it back down.  No Way was I inviting our landlord into this home.  Not unless I turned the lights down low off and claimed we were just raising next month’s rent by hosting our own haunted house for Halloween.  In August.

Not that we’ve been living in the “before” of a Dirt Devil commercial since then.  I just haven’t managed to remember to call the landlord anytime when the house might actually be presentable for those not legally forced to reside in it.  Until last week.  When I realized that, between turning on the heater and daily submersion in scalding water, my hands?  Were becoming a “before” picture for the next Lubriderm commercial.

At which point I put the landlord on speed dial.  And taught the Little Man how to vacuum.


Megan (Best of Fates) November 4, 2011 at 12:00 pm

Yay! Now you can dirty dishes to your heart’s content!

Maggy November 2, 2011 at 9:54 pm

Don’t feel alone – we thought our landlord was visiting this weekend, and we pulled out the carpet cleaner AND went to Lowe’s and bought a can of paint. All to be done prior to his arrival. When we learned he wasn’t coming, we pulled out the wine instead to celebrate.

NSC November 2, 2011 at 12:58 pm

DH and I have a very 1950’s arrangement…he takes care of the “outside” stuff, like mowing grass, plowing the driveway, fixing cars…and I do the “womens work” of cooking and cleaning and laundry.

I sometimes think I got the raw end of the deal, until he spends 8 hours fixing tie rod ends and brakes on my car. Or he spends 2 hours blowing snow. Then I sit with my cup of coffee and think how the dishes aren’t really so bad. :)

Domesticated Gal November 2, 2011 at 1:19 pm

Winter really is the time when I’m happy to sit my butt in the warm kitchen doing women’s work while he shovels snow!

NSC November 2, 2011 at 9:58 am

Thank God for nesting…my house would be a total sty (oh wait…still is :( )

I don’t know how I would survive without a dishwasher. I vaguely remember some point in childhood washing dishes by hand (seems like a distant dream) but I am FAR too dependant on that machine to go back.

So happy for you that it is fixed…life will be much happier now. :)

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