I don't typically do the dishes in our household. I don't know how things worked out this way, but don't feel too sorry for Kevin, he has clean laundry and a fridge full of food to eat.
Magic doesn't make that happen.
If I'm doing the dishes I make damn sure everything fits in the dishwasher. Even if it means spending ten extra minutes rearranging the dishwasher.
Kevin will just use those ten minutes to wash the dishes by hand.
And here is where that logic fails:
When you have paper thin ridiculously expensive wine glasses.
And lets say they break easy. Like all but one. Sure you still have all four of the white wine glasses, but three of the red ones are gone and if that last one breaks what are you supposed to do? Drink red wine out of a white wine glass like some commoner?
I watched as my last red wine glass slipped from Kevin's fingers and onto the tile floor smashing into tiny shards that would be impossible to entirely clean until we replace the tile floor with hard wood and then refinished THAT hard wood because our contractor is a pain in the ass.
I'm not bitter about any of it.
Maybe I was too busy reminiscing the many moments I shared with my sole red wine glass or maybe I was just shocked at the sheer velocity all that glass was able to travel, but at some point the man who watched me push another person from my body went completely white and down to the floor.
I had to fireman carry him upstairs.
Away from all the glass and blood.
Minuscule drops of blood shed from his tiny scratch...but lets not get sidetracked by details okay?
Kevin insisted I check the "wound" for glass. A wound that barely met the diameter of dental floss.
Turns out Kevin's hand is fine. He is still washing dishes by hand though which means I'm drinking wine out of a plastic cup like a hobo.
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