As a kid, my mom would often have me do the dishes.
We didn’t have a dishwasher, and really, I didn’t have all that many chores to do, besides picking up dog crap off of the yard.
It would take me FOREVER to do the dishes. I hated it. I’d stand there and drip water on the bubbles, pretending I was dropping acoustic missiles on Bubble City One. The water would get cold, my feet would ache, and I’d still be standing there 2 hours later.
I knew that it would probably be easier to just do the dishes, but sometimes I needed a kick-start to really get rolling and get the job done. I don’t know why. I guess I felt better just trying to despair about my lower middle-class life, completely unaware of the people who were really having a tough time.
I guess that they call that “inexperience”.
- Daniel
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I like doing dishes now. Now. I like to focus on it, the hot water and the dishrag, the tiny details of each piece of flatware or cooking utensil. It’s a way to clear my mind.
Dude, you gotta do a t-shirt with the “LIKE A MIND-PRISON IN THE DARK” panel. Printed on a dark grey shirt, that would flat out rock ‘em and sock ‘em.
New reader. Just finished going through the archives, you have a really lovely comic here. Best hour and a half wasting time I’ve ever had
I love this one–it’s like when I ask my kids to clean their rooms!