Pre-rinse

The next time I enter into a relationship, I know what my first living together question is going to be. It’s not “do you mind if I sleep in my own bed”? Nope. Nor is it “do you mind if I eat dinner in my office”? Nope. The first thing I need to know is whether or not she’s going to pre-rinse the silverware before dropping them in the sink.

I do the dishes around here and I do them manually, no dish-washing machine in this house! There is nothing worse than to find a knife with sticky peanut butter on it stuck down in a water glass in the hopes it will soak off. It just doesn’t happen. Or a fork with mysterious stuff embedded between the little prongs.

Ok, the reality is, I’m not going to be asking those questions of anyone. Tomorrow is Steph’s and my fifteenth anniversary (can you believe it), and if that’s my biggest beef I guess I might as well just deal with it and rinse them off myself…

And she’s a pretty cool grandmother:

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