The last straw
I am the main dishwasher in our house. It's an inherited role. My dad's dad was a dishwasher, clearing and cleaning up after my grandmother Opal's delicious meals. My dad was a dishwasher par extraordinaire. Now I carry on the Noble man tradition of washing dishes after family meals. All us menfolk in the Noble family were blessed to have married amazing cooks as well. Carolyn can churn out chicken enchiladas or delight us with dumplings with her spatulas tied behind her back.
My dishwashing routine does have a few rules that are difficult to enforce.
You must rinse off your plate in the side with the disposal and place the dish/cup in the right side.
You cannot leave dirty dishes on the table.
If you use a straw (which both womenfolk in the house insist on doing), you must throw the straw away before leaving your cup in the sink.
It's this last rule that somehow proves most difficult for Adelyn and Carolyn. I've pleaded, cajoled and even threatened, but they insist on leaving straws in their cups. A few days ago, I hid the package of straws in a Barney Fife move intended to "nip it in the bud." Carolyn threw a hissy fit, demanding replacement of "her" straws.
Well, today another straw was found in a cup in the sink. It is the last straw. We'll see how the straw war goes.
What are your kitchen pet peeves?