The Dishwasher Story

For a long time in my life, I didn’t know what a dishwasher was. I knew the word, and knew it was a gadget to wash dishes, but the concept of a machine washing my dishes was way beyond my imagination. Of course, I could have researched and found out what it looked like, and what it does, but well, let’s just say it was one of those things that you think about now and then, and do nothing about.

Enter Sunnyvale, CA. Every apartment came with a dish washer! Months passed since we moved to our first apartment, and I would just use the dishwasher to keep my dishes after “I” washed them “myself”. How could I trust this machine to possibly remove all that oil and mess from my dishes? And what about that sticky gooey stuff at the bottom of the pan every time my hubby takes a shot at cooking? This machine can’t possibly take out all that?

That’s probably what an average Indian housewife thinks of a dishwasher. We cook incredibly different from Americans do, and so the dishwasher possibly would work for them, but not for us.

And then work got hectic. We would come home late in the evening, tired and hungry. The dishes would pile up every day, and Sunday cleaning would be overwhelming. Where do I start?

My hubby said, “Ok, now that’s enough! Let’s use the dishwasher!”

Skeptically, I started one dish at a time, slightly brushing it with some soap, I arranged them in the dishwasher. In no time, my sink cleared, and all the dishes were neatly stacked inside. My hubby taught me how to start it, and we left it running.

The next morning, when I came looking for the cereal bowl, it was nice and clean and dry sitting inside the dishwasher….

My five year old niece always says, “How would you know if it’s good or bad before even trying it?”

Comments

Sudhi said…
Good one laks. But could have told me this a year ago!!
Chitra Iyer said…
Good for you, but you know what....I'm still doubtful!!

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