Suck it, Madge

So hey, guess what happened this weekend? A nice group of delivery people brought us a brand new dishwasher! Right to our doorstep!

(Well, we had ordered it and paid for it and such, so it wasn't exactly a surprise, but still, we did a pantomimed maypole style dance in our living room when the delivery truck pulled in just the same).

We were extra excited about the delivery because we have never had a dishwasher before. Well, Nordic Boy did once in an apartment back when we first knew each other. And I had one at my parents' house (or rather, as they no doubt would point out if they were reading this, THEY had one which I used). Nordic Boy did not grow up with a dishwasher present. Hence the disproportionate excitement over a dishwasher. I remember when I was a kid and I would stay home sick from school, I would always watch the Price is Right. And whenever Bob Barker would unveil the first Showcase in the Showcase Showdown and it contained something like a dishwasher or a fancy fridge or something, I would always scream out "PASS! You have to pass!" Because we all knew that the second Showcase was going to be a trip to Bora Bora or something. And when faced with the promise of a trip to Bora Bora, who would want something dull like a dishwasher?

This was long before I knew better. I'm not saying I wouldn't still pass so that I could have a chance to go to Bora Bora. But I would have to think about it. What an old fart I have become.

Nordic Boy got down on the floor and did some alchemy on the thing, whereby borg-style hoses were attached and water supply and drainage were encouraged, and other dishwasher midwifery was performed, and one hour later? Automated dishwashing. EASY PEASY.

I tell you we took a flying leap right up to the 1950s with that purchase. We feel downright UPDATED.

As soon as the dishwasher was installed, we loaded it up (because of course we didn't do dishes the day before just so that we would have a load ready) and started it. Then I put a load of laundry that had been washing into the dryer. Then our Roomba started up. Then we opened up our windows (oh spring, I love you) and conked out on the couch. It was as if we had to punctuate the fact that our housework was getting done in an automated fashion by sleeping through the whole thing. We are lazy! And we have things that will clean up after us! And we love it!

Now if only we could get a robot to cook our meals for us. Someone get that whole cylon thing started already.

Oooh. Ahhhh.