Harumph

I'm not going to tell you about something cute that Amiya did today. I'm not going to tell you about a new word she's discovered or her new favorite book. I'm not going to tell you about our recent sleep success or the fact that she's rockin' it out at swimming lessons. Instead I'm going to tell you about something she does that is almost entirely inconsequential but still really, really annoying. (Mom, I know you don't believe it, but she can really be annoying at times. I never was, so I imagine it's hard for you to fathom. Apparently the gene skips a generation.)


Here's what she does:

She flips the switch on the dishwasher from "heat dry" to "air dry."

I'll wait for the rolling eyes and the "whatevers" to cease.









Done?

Ok. I know, it's not a big thing. It's not even a medium thing. It's a little thing, but it's darn (edited for Nisha's sake) annoying. Sometimes I've got three minutes between X and Y to get something done and so I decide to tackle the dishwasher. I open it up, ready to pounce only to find that everything is sopping wet. All this moisture morphs the task from a three minute task to a ten minute task where every vessel has to be hand dried. This mundane chore no longer fits between X and Y, thus meaning I've yet another task to do after Y. The good thing is, there's no job to rush off to and my husband is very understanding if dinner is less than inspired or less than punctual.

The kicker is that Amiya doesn't really care about the switch. It isn't an object of fascination, she can't see the cause or the effect of it. It just is and every so often, when the sun's rays glint off this switch just so she can't avoid the temptation and she must switch it. It doesn't happen often enough for it to have any pattern or any sense; certainly not often enough for me to remember to check it. But it does happen often enough for me to write about it. And today, it just so happens, this blog, unlike the air dried dishes in the dishwasher, fits nicely between X and Y.