I hate emptying the f@#?ing dishwasher

I don’t want to go into the kitchen today.

On a normal day we load and unload the dishwasher  3 times.  Yesterday it was at least 5, because there were about 4000 dishes covering every surface of the kitchen from Saturday’s party.

I spent my Sunday loading and unloading the dishwasher.  Oh, and sweeping shit up from the kitchen floor.

As if I didn’t have enough cleaning bullshit to deal with, Number 4’s friend M came over yesterday with her parents J and R.  Which is fine, because they are great.

Except when R, M’s dad, decides to start up a little game with Number 2 called “Let’s throw Cheerios at each other and see if we can catch them in our mouths.”  Because half a box of Cheerios on the floor just isn’t enough.  There really should be more.

So R,J, and M go home, and I clean that mess up.

And then, Number 3, who watches this really awesome game and who is under the impression that R is a “professional eater” realizes that he needs to teach this game to Number 6, who finds it much more entertaining to smash the Cheerios with his feet and occasionally a hammer, rather than eat them.

So today I’m going to skip the plates and just serve all meals directly from the floor.  Because that’s where all the food ends up.

And then I won’t have to empty that fucking dishwasher.