My most prized possession and foot and mouth disease

 

My most prized possession and foot and mouth disease
13 August 2013

A few months ago, a very special friend, presented me with a very special gift.  Who would’ve known that that one gift would change my life.

It was a dishwasher.  And it ended up being the materialistic love of my life.

I kid you not!!!  Surreal, right?  Who gives someone else a dishwasher for goodness sakes?  It was beyond generous. 

She had recently moved houses and found herself in possession of more than one dishwasher, with no need for a second.  And so it had been standing around in her garage, gathering dust.

It all came about rather accidently, as the adults were out and about one Sunday night, watching my brother-in-law, Robin Auld, performing at Bertie’s Mooring.  And at around about 8pm, shortly before we went home again, Luke phoned to ask if he should do the dishes before bedtime.  What can I say?  I have trained him well.  Furthermore, he was on dishes duty that weekend.  I told him not to worry, and to head straight to bed.  And upon overhearing my conversation with Luke, my friend turned scandalized eyes to me, and said, “You don’t have a dishwasher???”.  This said with the same sort of horrified tone, one might reserve to say phrases like, “You don’t bath or shower every day?”.  Or alternatively, “You don’t know who Elvis is?”. 

She was dumbfounded and immediately insisted that I pop around to her place the following day, to fetch the homeless dishwasher, and love it forever more.

Which I naturally did.

You know the term, “nothing is better than sliced bread”?  Well, it should be changed to, “nothing is better than a dishwasher”.

I often rub it lovingly, with the same sort of affection usually reserved for much loved pets.  Or even kids. 

It’s been a few months already, and I still glance at it lovingly and say out aloud, “I love you.  I really, really love you.”

Clearly it’s been life changing.

Which brings me back to another friend of mine.  One who insists on putting her sandals into her dishwasher, every single day.  Especially in summer I presume.

This, not on a cycle of its own, but merely amidst the plates, the bowls and the cutlery too.

The first time she told me about it, it really made me laugh.  And exclaim with disbelief, “You wash your flip-flops in your dishwasher???”.  This said with the same sort of horrified tone, one might reserve to say phrases like, “You don’t bath or shower every day?”.  Or alternatively, “You don’t know who Elvis is?”.  And let’s not forget that old chestnut, “You don’t have a dishwasher???”.   

Still, it seems to work for her.  And to the best of my knowledge, neither she, her husband, nor their boys, have succumbed to foot and mouth disease.

Yet.

Not entirely sure I’ll ever take her up on an offer to join her family for a meal. 

Unless she allows me to bring paper plates, that is…..

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The love of my life - materialistically speaking of course