Hidden Treasure

I hate doing dishes. I mean I really hate doing dishes.

My family built a new house when I was 15 years old. Once it was built we settled into our normal routines.

My sister and I did the dishes. I convinced Mom to let me do the weekly laundry for a family of nine on Saturdays. On Saturdays I did not have to do dishes. And remember (this included diapers) all were washed in a wringer washer and hung on a line to dry.

Monday was the day to iron all those clothes. I happily did that instead of dishes on Monday.

When I did have to wash dishes I started with lots of bubbles in hot water. Glasses and cups were first to be cleaned. For a few minutes I had fun with the bubbles. Bowls, plates, and saucers came next. I lost interest quickly. By the time the dirty pots and pans came wanting a bath I no longer wanted to be there.

I often tried to hide them so I did not have to wash them. Mom always found the dirty skillet in the oven or the sticky pan in the cupboard behind the bag of flour.

One item she never found was one dirty cookie sheet. There was just enough room in the basement under the furnace.

If new owners have not needed to replace the furnace it is still there.

That was more than 60 years ago. I often wonder about that cookie sheet.