What is it about domestic appliances that is so complicated? I have provided the necessary operating instructions countless times – explained patiently about not needing to unwrap the dishwashing tablets and of having the confidence to just place the used, dirty dishes straight in – no need to rinse, just in they go. A non-too-subtle response is just to continue the sink washing – it has been five years since the dishwasher was installed!
I have even explained that we can use our solar energy to run the bloody thing, so long as we turn it on during daylight, and NOT straight after dinner.
There is an ugly spot at the back of the fridge. That large plastic container, sealed yes but “… don’t open it! That was the remains of the chicken casserole from ten days ago – no – that is not a fancy flower arrangement – that is mould.”
My favourite omelette pan, seasoned, burnished, and oiled lovingly over the years, found gleaming, back to the bare steel, in the cupboard! Jees, that really pissed me off!
When did a washing machine effectively clean clothes when it was loaded to the gills, then, for good measure, or as an afterthought, a sheet is added. The 28-minute fast-cycle is chosen, two measures of powder added, (“… it works better”!), the ‘go’ button pressed and the washing left to mature for 48 hours. Still in the laundry, who would put their grubby overalls in with the delicates?
Why is the new Dyson Stick vacuum not the go-to tool to remove the spider, and its’ webbing off the ceiling! “Why?” “I’m not going to grace that with a response.”
“Yep – the sheets might look fresh, but they have been on the bed for several weeks, every night assaulted with your methane, grubby feet, hair goo and other bodily excretions. Humour me and help change the bed – pillow slips as well, please.”
“Do you want me to go on? I can!”
“The dog hair in the carpets has reached epidemic proportions, both the kid’s eyes are streaming and with the choice of two vacuums – stick and barrel, why has neither been used.” I am reminded that I have a Rostered Day Off next week!
“And I draw the line with the dog poo. I will not pick it up! Yep, I know you designated a corner spot in the garden, but Roger just hasn’t picked up on that, preferring the grass under the clothesline. And the semi-dissolved lumps are a disgusting eyesore, a play and health hazard, not to mention an embarrassment.”
“Toilets – are this is where the gender divide really comes into its own! Nothing to do with seat-lifting – rather the failure to clean it properly. Both have habits that necessitate a check under the seat lip – stale urine competes with ‘other’ residues – do we need a notice sellotaped to the bathroom wall?”
“You say that I put your bras in with the general washing. I admit I did that on a few early washes but I never do it anymore! I’ve learnt!
The phhft of the Blue Pyrenees bubbles steadies the acrimony, there is a hesitation, a reflective moment, shoulders relax, bums sink into the couch, two glasses chinked, the kids are tucked up, asleep. Friday evening has arrived. It’s been a long week.