Yall, I hate emptying the dishwasher. Always have, always will. When my brother and I were little we used to time ourselves to see how quickly we could empty and refill the dishwasher. It always worked. Funnily enough, that "timing" incentive has lost its appeal as an adult.
Here's what goes through my mind when I empty the dishwasher:
Me: Hmmm, didn't I just put you away yesterday?
Plate: Ha. Yeah. And you'll probably put me away again tomorrow.
Me: Did I really use all these items when I was cooking last night?
Entire dishwasher: Laughing at me.
So, on that note, I got to thinking about my favorite/least favorite chores. And yes, this is what I think about when I empty the dishwasher.
Emptying the dishwasher: see above.
Taking the trash out: This is a no-brainer. It's a boys job. It's smelly and heavy. When I was living alone at TAH, I always forgot to take the trash out and my neighbor actually commented once how unusual it was to see me performing said chore.
Making the bed: Probably stems from my annoyance at having to do it every.single.day. Don't get me wrong. I love getting in a made-bed. And an unmade-bed. But I prefer it if someone else does it for me. You can't even entice me with some fun throw the sheets up in the air games.
Laundry: There's something seriously satisfying about doing laundry. For starters, you don't have to do it every day. And the results are worth it. Fresh smelling, pretty clothes, towels and sheets. Oh yes - sheets and towels are my favorite. And I love folding towels because I have a very specific way of doing it. I'm sorta a towel-folding dictator.
Cleaning the bathroom: I know it's crazy, but again, you can see the results right away. I'll scrub on my hands and knees just for the satisfaction of seeing all the junk that paper towel picks up. And the reward? Taking a long hot shower in a perfectly clean bathroom. Love it.
Yeah, there's not really a third chore that I like. I tried to think of one, but I just don't really care for anything else.
Here's the confession. Laundry and cleaning the bathroom are the only two chores around the house I'm really responsible for. I'll help with other stuff, but sometimes it's best for marital bliss for me to stay out of the way. True life: my husband is an OCD cleaner.
I'll save the ups and downs of marriage to an OCD cleaner for another post, but I'll leave you with this image as proof of his OCD. At our wedding, his groomsmen all chipped in and presented with his a present:
Mr. B, with his best man, Mr. B, showing off his exciting present
A handheld Dyson vacuum.
Believe me now?