Dishes in the Sink

Growing up without a dishwasher, I couldn’t wait to live in a place that had one. I thought all of my housekeeping problems could be eliminated with one appliance.  

At the very least, I hoped it would stop Mama’s voice in my head to never leave dishes in the sink. Trouble was, there was more to it than just having a dishwasher.

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I don’t remember Mama ever complaining about washing dishes. Maybe that’s because back in the day lots of things actually couldn’t go in the dishwasher, cast iron skillets, Tupperware, china…

For years, I thought the whole no dirty dishes left in the sink was a thing of aesthetics to Mama. Clean dishes marching in neat dish drainer rows with glasses standing at attention is a pleasing sight, especially if Daddy is an Army man.

Anyway, Dear Reader, like so many of Mama’s (or Lu-Lu as the cousins called her) lessons, it took more than a minute for me to understand the rationale behind this one. (I’m going to blame part of this on Tom.)

Tom has always liked me to wear my nails long and manicured. Those nails don’t last long if you’re scrubbing pots and pans. Besides, Tom had plenty of practice with that when he was growing up.

If a pan headed for the sink with anything baked and/or stuck to it, Tom typically took care of it. No  skin off my nose.

Then we moved into a brand-new construction house one  spring. Two kids too young to load the dishwasher, two jobs, too little time to worry too much about dishes.

Summer came, along with a trail of ants. Scaling a story and a half up the back of the house must have been a small price for even smaller morsels left on dishes in the sink. Yikes!

Have you ever had to uninvite those determined critters, Dear Reader?

At a certain point, I began to wish Mama’s lessons had come with Cliff Notes. (Of course, being one of those “willful children” that Dr. Dobson refers to, I probably wouldn’t have read them.)

I don’t know about you, Dear Reader, but I’m so glad the Gospels give us the Cliff Notes to the parables of Jesus. The Lord must have wanted to make sure we didn’t miss the point of those lessons.


Your ears are open but you don’t hear a thing.
    Your eyes are awake but you don’t see a thing.
The people are blockheads!
They stick their fingers in their ears
    so they won’t have to listen;
They screw their eyes shuts o they won’t have to look,
     so they won’t have to deal with me face-to-face
    and let me heal them.
Matthew 13: 14-15  MSG

My name is Alice, and I’m guilty of being a blockhead, both in the house and in my spiritual life. Can I get a witness? Praying that blockheads everywhere will know God loves us, too!

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