Dishes
Today my dishwasher became a dish dryer
as my husband creatively used the rack to stack
the freshly washed dishes
A huge reminder that we can’t afford
repairs or a new one
it doesn’t fit into our new ultra
conserve on everything,
skinny jeans tight
budget
and he doesn’t like it
I made him wash dishes by hand
the first time in 10 years
and I don’t have the energy to say thanks
thanks for something I have done for years
without anyone asking
except when someone says
“mom there’s no clean dishes
we’re out of glasses,
I can’t find a fork!”
So I unload the dishwasher everyone sees filled
and load it up with 3 more loads that day
but now that it’s broken
I don’t want to be stuck
with one more thankless job
of washing glasses as well as pots
spending hours
at the sink
seeing the splash marks on the tiles
like little eyes peering at me
guilting me into seeing one more thing
I don’t have time to clean
My hands getting repeatedly burned
and then frozen
when I can’t get the temperature right
reaching into an overflowing sink
spilling over like waves over the breakwater
of a kitchen counter
flowing like Niagara Falls
over the edge
onto my feet
I hate that
not noticing until I’m already wet
my socks dripping
torn whether I should just
leave them on to mop up the next spill
I know will happen
minutes from now
my hands are prunes
and if I’m not careful
buy the wrong dish soap
they’ll be dry and hurting me hours from now
it’s always so hard to know when to pull the plug
the water is still warm
but it’s gross with grease
and goop that once was someone’s soup
because they forgot to rinse the bowl
before throwing it in the sink or
stacking more bowls on top
concealing the mess
just like that pile of dirt that accumulates
under the carpet
cause no one wants to get the dustpan out
and I know cause sometimes it’s me
I hate to stoop and prop the stupid broom
against my shoulder while holding
the too small dustpan that won’t stay flush with the floor
letting the dust and sand and tiny particles
escape and hide
until you pull back an inch
over and over and over
and six more times
‘til I just don’t care anymore and leave the last little bit to get blown away
as soon as someone opens the back door
If I could someday, I’d fly away
pretending I am a little sparrow
flitting about
unobtrusive
with a happy little chirp
Instead I’m staring out the window
into the neighbour’s yard
while my shirt gets wetter and wetter
pressed up against the counter
stopping the water from reaching
my sopping wet feet
trying to decide
is the water warm enough to do one more pot?
even though I haven’t seen a single bubble
since 3 pots ago
And that’s why tonight I said
“Enough is enough! Everyone has to have a turn”
and he doesn’t like it
cause I should have said that 10 years ago
“Let’s do this together”
When love was so strong, he’d do anything for me
but love is quieter now
more routine
lovely but routine
That wasn’t what he signed up for
a wife making him do dishes
once a week
he likes his cushy spot on the couch
he probably thinks
“let’s not rock the boat”
Maybe tomorrow I’ll thank him
when I go to inspect the work he’s done
and overlook the spots and the things
I’m sure he’s left behind
for me to do
I guess that’s what I signed up for.
Original poem by Laura Lane, First published in The Banister Anthology and Poetry Contest by the Canadian Authors Association Niagara Chapter 2022 as a Judge’s Choice