Not Everyone's Mama

My dishwasher broke.

Remember the other day when I listed the pros of apartment living?  This falls under that category.  Not the dishwasher not working, the fact that I can just ring up maintenance and ask them to come fix it.  No finding a repairman.  No going to Sears and getting a new one.  Just sit and wait for someone to show up. (I’ve been waiting since April for my microwave buttons to be fixed.  Let’s hope I don’t have to wait that long.)

I hope they get to it soon.  If there is one appliance I can’t live without, it would be the dishwasher.  That’s my one requirement anywhere we live, I need a dishwasher.  My least favorite chore is doing dishes.  I HATE getting my hands dirty.

Ask my mom. This is not something new.  It’s been going on since I was younger.

When I was younger, my brothers and I split up the house into rooms for our chores.  We’d alternate every week.  One week I had the kitchen, Steve had the living room, and Josh had the dining room.  (Abby, 11 years younger than I was, was too young to have her own room to clean while I lived at home for quite awhile.)  After the week was over, we’d rotate and I’d go to another room to clean.

When it was my turn for the kitchen, I dug my heals in.  I did not want to do the dishes.  I would not do the dishes.  I hated the dishes.  Doing the dishes (or not in my case) caused A LOT of friction between my dad and I.  My mom and I came up with a solution.  I would pay her as much as she made at work to do the dishes for me.  When my mom went back to work, she was a cashier at a local grocery store while we were in school.  It was important to her (and to us) that she was home when we got home. I want to say when I was 15 years of age or so, so 20 years ago, my mom made $6.50 an hour.  She’d keep track of how long it took her to do the dishes (and she wasn’t speedy about it, were you mom?).  She’d keep a record of it and when I got paid from my own job, I owed it to her.

I think the lesson there is life is not free.  Or, stuff has to be done even if you have to hire someone to do it?

Ok, I’m not exactly sure what the lesson was I supposed to learn, but I didn’t have to do the dishes and that was all that matter.

Now, there is no one to do the dishes for me.  The kids are too young and Pato doesn’t load the dishwasher the way I like it done.

I’m not doing them by hand.

I know, I know, my hands wash.  Let’s just call it my own little OCD thing.  Maybe it’s a phobia?  I don’t care.  I don’t like my hands dirty.

Here’s hoping they fix my dishwasher quickly.

I doubt it though.  They are dealing with the city inspector right now.

That’s why I didn’t post yesterday, well, except for my Rubicon post.  (That was an excellent show BTW!)

I just needed some downtime after all the stress of getting ready for the inspection.

Maintenance was here by 9:30 AM with the inspector and I think we passed.

It was a different city inspector who came this time. He walked in with maintenance, looked around the living room, rolled and unrolled my shade over my sliding glass door, waiting for maintenance to check the fire alarms, and walked out. They were in here a total of 3 minutes.

I’m all, wait a second, where’s the white glove? I dusted, I scrubbed, there’s not a speck of fuzz on the floor, you’re supposed to open stuff, inspect like you did that one time. Take some pictures like you did of my jalapenos and my daughters’ room. Look, there’s nothing in my fridge that shouldn’t be! I even cleaned my freezer! Come on! All that stress for 3 minutes.

I am happy though, if they would have looked closer, they would have seen a few stains that I couldn’t get out of the carpet, a couple of chipped spots on the walls, etc.

That’s done and over with…..until October when they put the air conditioner covers on again and come to inspect all over again.  Unless they find some other reason to inspect, I’ll know if I find a note on the front door of the building.

Blah.

And now I wait.  Wait for them to come fix my dishwasher, my microwave, my shower door, my refrigerator door, and I guess my toilet seat, which I didn’t even know was broken.

Smoke alarms work.

Do they ever test the sprinkler system?

I have sprinklers in each room of the apartment.

How do they know if those work?

Things that make you go hmmmmmm.

I’m off to empty out my dishwasher, pile it all in the sink, and hope they call and tell me they will be here today so I don’t have to wash them all by hand.

ETA – I had to share this, I say it over on The Bad Mom’s Club.

And to think I thought Christiano was a pretty good dancer when he just waves his arms, bounces up and down, and spins in circles.

Have a great day!

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