A proper pot-washer pops pots in the dish-washer

A few short weeks ago I treated myself: I purchased a brand spanking new pressure cooker.

I can happily tell you that it is dishwasher safe! That is, except for the rubber ring and the very clever detachable handle. I really like things that can go in the dishwasher as I am totally useless at washing up. I’m the one who misses bits. Even rather large bits. As the oldest in our household, I make the most of it and blame it on my aging eyes. And then, when there are things that can’t go in the dishwasher I encourage other household members to get involved. Scrub a pan. Lift a finger. That kind of thing.

So I got my shiny new pan and I started using it right away and as I did so I informed the household: detachable handle and rubber ring do not go into the dishwasher.

Last night, as usual, my husband went to bed before me.

I took my medicine, put the dishwasher on and shovelled washing into the washing machine. Then I headed to bed. Woke my husband up to tell him some important fact or other. Don’t worry, he always falls asleep straight afterwards, as is one of his many talents. I brushed my teeth and then climbed into bed. Where I contemplated how to get to sleep and came up with the only answer I could think of: I stalked estate agents for a bit.

I woke up this morning. Bright and early. Because, of course, it’s a Sunday. I tried to curl up and get back to sleep. Then I lay there for a moment or two envying my out for the count husband. Finally, I admitted defeat and shuffled out of our bedroom.

Downstairs I pottered for a bit. Then hovered over a few other estate agents’ websites. After that I contemplated what to purchase on Amazon. Was thrown by the sheer volume of choice and so did a puzzle instead.

My husband rose and shone. Being less of a potterer than me, he headed straight to the dishwasher. He’s a get the job done kind of a guy.

I heard him shout, “Somebody’s put the rubber ring from your pressure cooker into the dishwasher!”

“What?” I shrieked.

Panic rose within me.

Then he carried the lid through. “They didn’t even dismantle it from the lid. Look!” I heard the disdain in his voice. I blinked and looked at the pot. Rubbed my head. Thought.

“It was me,” I whispered. “It was me.”

As it turns out: luckily I hadn’t actually remembered to switch the dishwasher on…

My husband dismantled the ring. Offered to make me breakfast. To reorganise my world. Then I heard his voice again, probing from the kitchen:

Somebody’s put washing up liquid in the frying pan and just left it like that. On the cooker.”

I know exactly what that “Somebody” means.

It means: one of our teenagers has done this. I am not sure which one. But I am incredulous. I do not understand them. Why have they done this?

My mind races. I retrace my steps from last night. The dishwasher… A quick rub down of the tabletops… The washing up liquid… The pan… The water? The water? Nope. No water.

“I’m sorry. It was me.” I swallowed.

He looked at me. Kind face. Wide eyes. “You must have been tired, ” he said.

And I just thought, bloody hell, I’d better go and check out the state of the laundry room.

20 Replies to “A proper pot-washer pops pots in the dish-washer”

  1. Nice to hear from you again, Sarah, If I had a nickel for all the times I put stuff in the dishwasher that I wasn’t supposed to, I’d be rich. No. that’s not true becuase I had to spend money to replace them all!

  2. So nice to see you’re still going strong, Sarah! 😉 😀
    Oh, the things we do when we’re tired and our mind is set on other things. I’m glad your hubby saved the day. And the pressure cooker! Us women need a steadying presence in our crazy world, right?
    Thank you for your humor, I love it. Hopefully, you’ll find the time to keep on writing. x

    1. We do. He is my superhero, I tell you. I even bought him the pants one Christmas… 😉
      I hope so too. It’s very uplifting!

  3. Sarsm,
    You with the dishwasher, me with the washing machine: I tend to put in the clothes, the powder in the tray and then remember that I have one thing extra to put in…
    …I go away to get it, get distracted and never get back to the machine until later when I go to hang out the laundry and find I forgot to even start the load!

  4. This certainly sounds like my life these days (I now take blood thinner for my artificial heart valve installed in 2015) and there are days I do believe my brain had more thin blood than blood that actually helps me to function. I never know what I will or will not do that is either (if I am lucky) correct…or completely, “I just don’t know why I did that!”. So, don’t worry. You have an understanding husband that has your back and hopefully, the laundry room situation was in tip top shape when you checked. Take care

    1. I was standing at the fridge yesterday, door wide open, wondering what on earth I was doing there. Then I looked around the whole kitchen, desperate for some kind of clue. No, nothing! So I shut the fridge door, to save electricity and stood there and racking my brains. Still nothing. So I went for the retrace my steps option. I headed back to the dining table, stared at it, then walked around it. And all the time the dinner guests were just sat there staring at me. Biting their lips and wondering when they could finally start their dinner.
      And then it came to me: beansprouts!!

      1. You are hysterical but that is exactly what I would do if I couldn’t remember something…retrace my steps and then! The light comes on and it is all made clear.

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