(originally posted @ My Really Real Reality)
I want a self-cleaning kitchen. Yeh... go ahead and laugh. I heard it too. But while you may chuckle over my impossible fantasy; I am completely serious.
Before I go to bed at night I want to turn out the light and push a button. When I stumble back into the room in the morning the dishes will be washed and put away. The counter tops will be wiped down. And the floor will be swept.
Oh! And the coffee will be made. If I'm dreaming I might as well dream big, right? Although, for the sake of complete honesty - that part usually happens anyway since The Man of the House is up before me most mornings. He's good like that.
There will be no more asking a 13 year old boy to empty the dishwasher, only to have to listen to him grumble and groan as if he were just sentenced to 30 years hard labor. No finding random globs of jelly, or invisible mystery sticky spots on the counter top. No more going to sleep thinking the dishes are caught up, only to wake in the morning to find that someone has crept in and filled the sink with empty bowls, cups, and coffee mugs.
Only a bright, sparkly kitchen. Shiny. Clean. Ahhh... nice, huh?
And until the day that they invent the self-cleaning kitchen, I really wish the person mainly responsible for that duty around here would keep up with it a little better. Oh...wait. That's me.
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