I may be a year shy of thirty years old, but washing silverware makes me feel like a four-year-old with an empty crayon box and 1,000 crayons that have to be organized right-side-up and by color, and I just want to throw them all away and start over.
I will gladly wash every other plate, cup, tupperware, pot, pan, skillet, cookie sheet...I can turn a mountain of dishes into a clean kitchen in no time. I even enjoy dishes most of the time, despite the fact that I don't have a dishwasher.
But I.despise.washing.silverware.
It takes so much time for so little accomplishment.
The other day, that Lover-man came in from the barn and said he was going to wash dishes for me. I, of course, was thrilled, and watched him organize the dirty dishes on the counter and run water in the sink. Then he said something I will never forget as long as I live: "I always start with the silverware because I love washing silverware."
WHAT?! I couldn't believe my ears.
First of all, what kind of person loves the tedious and completely unrewarding task of washing silverware? That's like saying your favorite job as a four-year-old was arranging 1,000 crayons into a tiny box with all of the tops up and the colors in the right order.
But second, how did we make it three years into marriage with me slaving away and sweating and striving and growing gray hair while I washed all the silverware when it's his favorite job?
And third, is there anything more glorious than to find out three years into marriage that your husband's favorite job is your absolute worst one?
Hmmm...you made us like that that on purpose, didn't you, God?
