The Blizzard of 2008, and those of you who live in colder, windier, snowier places feel free to make fun of us, is over. At least as it affects me. I had vehicle access to the rest of the world shortly after 3 p.m. yesterday.
All told we had about 20 inches of snow on Friday and Saturday. Fifteen or 16 inches fell in the 24-hour period that ended Saturday night setting a world-record. Well, a world-record in much the same way the World Series is a world-wide event. Mostly is was a record snowfall for the Columbus area, but I am willing to go go out on a limb and say it’s a record snowfall for all the cities in the World named Columbus.
The city I live in, and it is a wonderful city that usually does a very good job of plowing my alley — the alley my garage sits off of and which acts as the starting point for the above-mentioned vehicular access to the rest of the world — seemed to have lost track of said alley in the blizzard. I can only assume that the snow came down so fast and hard that any hint of an alley might have been obscured and without that hint no additional thought was given to it; by no additional thought what I mean is the thought that would have had a guy thinking, “What’s this small entryway-looking thing doing at a right angle to the road I’m plowing? Dammit! That’s right! It’s an alley! Maybe I should take a pass at it.”
And if that sounds like I’m picking on the guys driving the plows, I’m not. Many a day I’ll walk into my kitchen and wonder what that green light on the front of my dishwasher is for. After a second’s reflection, which is usually helped along by looking more closely at the light and noticing it says “clean” next to it, it’ll occur to me that the green light means I have clean dishes in there. This leads to several seconds of joy and self-congratulation as I commend myself for remembering to not only load the dishwasher but start it at some point. I may have this experience of joy and self-congratulation for a good long time, for, while it is many a day that I’ll walk into the kitchen and wonder what the green light is, few are the days I’ll bother to actually unload the dishwasher. (Normally I’ll wait until I run out of something to spread peanut butter with. As I’m not opposed to using a knife, spoon, fork or finger, a fair amount of time can pass.)
Without that light I’d have no thought at all regarding my dishes and the only thing that keeps me from running out of dishes altogether is that my dishwasher isn’t big enough to hold every dish I own. Otherwise the day would certainly arrive in which I opened a cupboard looking for a plate only to find that not only were all my plates gone, but so were my bowls, saucers, cups, etc. And then I’d wonder how my kids could have possibly lost all of them.
At the risk of diverging even further I’d like to tell you another story involving how men think that, coincidentally, involves dishwashers. Many many years ago, so many, in fact, that I was still married, so many, in fact, that I was still married and happy, I was sitting in the living room doing something constructive (I’m sure). The wife at the time came downstairs, walked right to the dishwasher, opened it and started putting dishes away. What this said to me, and men grab hold of something as this is likely to floor you, is that she’d been upstairs doing something and thought to herself, “I’ll go empty the dishwasher.” I mean, it wasn’t like she walked into the kitchen, looked around with an “I wonder what I should do” expression on her face and then opened the dishwasher — she walked purposely to the dishwasher and as she was pulling the door open was already reaching inside as if she knew there were dishes in there. Let me say it another way: she had been upstairs and at some point said to herself, “I’ll go empty the dishwasher,” and then she came down to do it. It was her goal!
I never would have thought, in a million years, to open the dishwasher to see if anything was in there. There are times now that I’ll walk into my kitchen, notice a smell, and only after checking the garbage, the garbage disposal, and the fridge will I think to look in the dishwasher. Fortunately, I have a pretty good unit and it has never failed to remove food I’ve left on plates or the stuff that grows on food that I’ve left on plates that have been in it for a week or more.
[In all fairness to me I always knew when it was time to change the oil in the cars, when it was time to fertilize the grass, when to winterize the mower, when the cars needed new brakes and how to put them on, where the G spot is, how to get the VCR to quit flashing 12:00, and some other manly things.]
Oh well, to reel it back in…
Well, let’s reel it in tomorrow. I’ve sort of droned on and you must be tired by now.
Sorry I let you down as a Mom and did not teach you all the inside jobs. When you grew up there was a division of labor Mom/Sister inside and Dad/Boys had all the things outside. Cars, lawns, whatever went on in the barn, on the roof if it wasn’t inside the walls of the house it was not your job–picking up your room mess-so it could be cleaned. Taking out the garbage that was another job for the boys. Do you remember the time I got angry because I was tired of the boring tasks inside and Millie and I mowed the lawn while you guys worked inside. Remember how I ruined Dads neat lawn strips. Made turns on the grass–looked horrible. I did’t know what to do outside–same with the unloading the dishwasher–you were not trained on inside work so you don’t know the patteren. When you mow, you edge, trim, clean up cuttings and put things away. Housework is the same. Dishwasher segment: You cook, put on the table, clear table, stack in dishwasher, clean floor while dishwasher is running than empty dishwasher. Now you know the patteren women know and life will be much happier. You will never have to spread the peanutbutter with your finger again. Just yell if you need help in housecleaning or the laundry area I’ll do my best to let you in on the know–but I am still not going to change a tire–that’s man work!!!!!!!
well said mom.