by no_bones

My wife and I had a major spat yesterday. She’s always nagging me about the way I load the dishwasher, about my unorthodox placement of bowls in the bottom rack and the way I shoehorn glasses into the space clearly designed for plates. On this particular day, I’d reached my limit. Incensed, I stormed out of the house and sped off across town on my Kawasaki Ninja. Undaunted, she chased me down in her convertible Carmengia, running red lights and nearly killing innocent motorists in her effort to catch me.  As fate would have it, this all took place mere hours before the National Dishwasher Loading Championships in Rinse, Iowa. I was a dark horse to win the cup that year, though the solid money was on Val “Heavy Soil” Daniels, the perennial champion. My mood was dark as I noisily idled my motorcycle up to the curb.

Me:  Jesus Christ, and you think I’m reckless? When i load, I’ll have you know that our crockery and silverware come first!
Wife: Well, I am going to finish my sentence, Lieutenant (one of her many pet names for me, along with “Sugarlips” and “Pussface”).  My evaluation of your dishwasher loading was right on.
Me: Is that right?
Wife: That is right, but I held something back. I see real genius in your dishwasher loading, Pussface, but I can’t say that back there. I’m afraid that everyone would see right through me, and i just don’t want them to know that I think your lower rack technique is unrivaled and that I’ve fallen for it. Here’s some Cascade with spot and film protection. Now go win that championship!

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