Happy New Dishwasher-oops, I mean Year!

Yesterday I decided to play that game, How Much Can I Fit in the Dishwasher and Still Get Everything Clean Game, you know, the one where you have to use one hand to close the dishwasher, and the other to hold back the avalanche of dishes pouring out as you slam it shut?

About once a year I go on a dish strike. I just get soooo sick of picking up after others, finding a mess in the sink 10 minutes after I clean it, scrubbing dried milk from the bottom of glasses (I think milk is disgusting so this is a most-hated chore of mine) and spending the first and last 30 minutes of every day doing dishes. This year the strike only lasted about 4 days before I couldn't take having a messy sink, gave in, and loaded the dishwasher.

Then I pushed start.

Nothing happened.

Let's begin the Eulogy, shall we?

The Willardson's dishwasher was a good little dishwasher. Even in it's final days
when the buttons were slowly killing themselves off one by one, we could always count on the pots and pans cycle to get the job done. Dishwasher left behind a new oven, a dying refrigerator with a leaky seal (next to die in the appliance revolution I am sure...) and a disgruntled housewife who's new year's resolution was to "have a positive attitude".

It took me well over an HOUR to wash the mountain of dishes from the dish strike by hand.

...and now I have PAN HANDS. ew.

My friend, Emily, has a really good theory that this is really all my fault anyway. Because after all, I DID remodel the kitchen, and now it's just so pretty that all the appliances are like,
"Hey...I wanna be black too!"
So basically, they are taking themselves out, because they just can't stand the conflict in the heat of my inter-racial kitchen. I'm really amazed the old refrigerator has held out this long I really think the only thing that's kept it alive this long is the ice maker's fluency in Ebonics. But once it's dishwasher comrade is outta here, I give the refrigerator 6 months before he gives up the ghost as well. Black Power Baby.

Oh well there's always the white hood fan. I accidentally grouted that thing to the wall. It's not going anywhere. Then again, that didn't seem to stop the oven...

So let's see.....the positive side of this? I have a better appreciation for electricity and all high power wash function inventions out there. I am grateful that I was not a pioneer, because washing cornbread pans is a pain...and it would be especially lame with homemade lye soap. Oh! I'm grateful I stocked up on Palmolive dish soap at the Associates store when it was there.
Above all...at least I get a shiny new, pretty, black dishwasher.

And hopefully, I won't have to hand wash another pile like this for a loooong time.