Everyone has their “thing,” right? That one thing they just can’t do.
Mine is dishes.
It’s not that I just hate doing them. It’s that it is that one thing that grosses me out. Give me vomit to clean or a farm animal to slaughter and I’m good to go and probably a little too interested. Show me a sink full of soggy, slimy food particles floating in warm water and I’m going to gag. Heaven forbid one of those food particles actually clings to my hand. I’m getting chills just thinking about it.
This is actually a two-fold issue:
- Food particles = indescribable yakking reflexes
- I don’t really like the sensation of wet hands…or feeling wet in general. Especially if it’s cold water.
I know this makes me slightly weird (although I’m adamant I’m not alone) and I do manage to take showers.
Mostly I think it’s just a sensitivity thing (I don’t like air blowing on me either) and well…a weird thing. Whatever. I can own it.
One of the first things I miss in the RV is the dishwasher. And not just for the washing aspect; having a place to put dirty dishes until you have enough to wash is just as beneficial. As such there is almost always a dirty dish in the sink, taunting me relentlessly.
Thankfully I have a husband who humors me. For the past several months without a dishwasher, Justin has been handwashing like a pro. Occasionally I can overcome the water issue to rinse and dry. It’s hard and it involves a lot of hand-drying (yes, I actually dry my hands between the dishes I rinse – like I said, I can own my weirdness) but I do it.
He loves me (and he knows I have serious issues), so it’s never really mentioned. And I love him to the moon and back for it. But when Justin was taking his blacksmith workshop over the weekend, he’d come home on cloud nine and I knew nothing would ruin that excitement like dishes waiting to be done.
So today when I faced a sink full of dirty dishes, I didn’t think about the particles of stir-fry floating by or the soggy rice cascading between my fingers (oh dear lord). I took a really deep breath and focused on offering this as a gift of love to my husband.
And you know what? With my husband held firmly in my mind, it wasn’t so bad. This was my gift and nothing changes our perspective like wholeheartedly choosing to give from our hearts.
I didn’t clean out the food trap though. I do have issues, after all. Thankfully, he didn’t mind.
















