My husband and I have been married for eight years, living together for 13, and together for even longer than that.
We have these recurring conversations where we are talking about the same thing and saying the same thing and it makes me feel a little crazy, but I mostly think it's charming and hilarious. I mean, don't all married couples have the same arguments and conversations with their spouses?
I hope so. I mean, these are some of the things that make marriage entertaining.
Anyways, this one conversation that we always have has to do with Nelson putting things in the dishwasher that are not dishwasher safe. Or, perhaps, putting things in the bottom rack that are Top! Rack! Only!
We talk about this maybe once every two months.
The main things in our house that are not dishwasher safe are some of the boys' water bottles and wooden utensils. The items that are top rack only are reusable plastic storage containers and two of the kids' plates.
Now, you may be asking yourself, "But how is Nelson supposed to know what's dishwasher safe, and what is top rack only?"
Well, because I tell him. Also, it listed right on many of these items, but I am also right there, very clearly saying, "Hey, this is not dishwasher safe, okay? You have to hand wash this every time or it will get ruined."
And, he seems to remember these things for a while, but then after a few months, the water bottles will start making their way into the dishwasher, and getting ruined, or a lid to a plastic container will be placed on the bottom shelf and fall onto the heating element and get all melty.
So, at that point I say, "Hey, so remember how I told you that XYZ is not dishwasher safe/needs to go on the top rack? Look at what happened [shows melty lid/ruined water bottle]." And Nelson is all, "Oh, yeah, right."
But here's the thing (I know, finally, right?). Now, I can allow for the fact that he may forget which of the plethora of water bottles are dishwasher safe and which are not. That is totally feasible.
What I don't get, is how is he forgetting that wooden utensils (spoons, citrus reamer, etc.) are not dishwasher safe, and that plastic containers are top rack only? Because that has been the case for the entire time we've had a dishwasher (eight years in April). These facts have not changed and I have relayed these facts several times.
Truth be told, I'm tired of relaying these facts. Almost as tired as I am of my wooden spoons cracking and my reusable plastic containers warping.
So part of me, as I unloaded the dishwasher this morning and found my wooden citrus reamer in the utensil basket (sigh) feels annoyed that we have to have the dishwasher safe conversation YET AGAIN and another part of me feels annoyed that I have to come off as a nag because, OH MY GOD WE'VE HAD THIS CONVERSATION AT LEAST 25 TIMES. And yet a third part of me is laughing at the complete ridiculousness of the entire situation.
I mean, what is the deal? Does he have early onset Alzheimer's? Is he genuinely forgetting basic, longstanding dishwasher etiquette? It is really so cumbersome to hand wash a citrus reamer the he would rather put it in the dishwasher and then have me tell him all about it later? I would think the threat of having me talk to him about a fucking citrus reamer would be enough to get him just to hand wash it, as is clearly stipulated in Jenni's Rules of Dishwashers (and, don't even, because you know you have dishwasher rules, too).
Seriously. I don't even want to be part of that conversation, because frankly it makes me sound crazy.
What's actually going to happen here is that in the interest of maintaining marital accord, I will not mention the citrus reamer. I mean, I get that it is ridiculous and that I'm slightly obsessing here. This is a thing with me. I will continue to muse over why my wooden utensils find their way into my dishwasher, despite my pleas to hand wash them so as to preserve their integrity.
I will soldier on. These are the things we do.
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LOL!!! I know what you mean. I have given up on telling Paul where to place his grungy stinky greasy work uniform when he gets home from work. As if a black mesh hamper is not enough to remind him...black hamper for black work clothes!! I just let him place it wherever he wants and I go move the clothes shortly thereafter. No need to repeat the same things over and over and sound like a nag - these are the things we do ;-)
I think this makes me feel a little better, as I thought my hsband of 17 years was just being passive aggressive and ignoring things I've told him, but maybe it is something else!
Jimmy and I have lived in our house for 8 years now, and he still does NOT know where things belong in the kitchen. He is seemingly incapable of putting dishes away correctly. It makes me INSANE. How hard could it be to figure out?! Ergh!
We have solved this problem. I load or/ reload the dishwasher before it is run 99% of the time. The dishwasher is one of the very few areas in which I become a type A personality.
I weep salty tears over my cracked wooden spoons and never, ever beat anyone with them. I *want* to beat people with them, but same as you, the whole "values marriage over wooden spoons" thing. God forbid I ever get an actually nice wooden spoon.
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