My dishwasher.

My dishwasher used to be me.

Then one year, for my birthday,

long, long ago, I wanted a vacuum cleaner.

A nice one.

So, what was I given?

An electric dishwasher.

I never really appreciated it until one day,

it stopped working.

For a while,

I decided to wash my own dishes,

but they never seemed squeeky clean anymore.

So I called the handy dandy repairman,

and for a cheap part and a more expensive service call,

I was back washing my dishes “clean” again.


Dishwasher it is.

Shallow as it is.

It is what it is.  Needed.
In and Emergency
I love a man
with dishpan hands.