Dirty Dishes

For Day 19 of NaPoWriMo I was challenged to write a funny rant about something that gets on my nerves. I do not like washing dishes. I much prefer to use the dishwasher than to hand wash, but even when using the dishwasher, the dishes still end up in the sink in a sticky, stinky, food-encrusted pile of mess, which I then have to touch. If I were more on top of things, the dishes would be put in the dishwasher after every meal and snack, but often I don't get to it until after dinner time, and by then the sink is completely full as well as the counter. If only magic existed and I could snap my fingers and the dishes would be instantly clean and put away. Alas, that is not the case. Instead I've decided to write a poem that rants at the dishes to wash themselves so I don't have to do it. 

Dirty Dishes

By Candace Shultz

You filth-encrusted pot,

You sticky syrupy plate,

You foul-smelling cup of old milk,

Rinse yourself off

And wash away the grime.

You drunken glass of wine,

You yeast-odored beer stein,

Pick yourself up out of your stupor

And clean up your mess.

And you there!

All you lying haphazardly in a pile,

Just diving into the sink with no care,

Form a line and walk yourselves 

To the dishwasher if you don't want to scrub

Each tine of the fork,

Each curve of the spoon,

Each sharp point or serrated edge of the knife.

All you dirty dishes just lazing all about,

Take a bath and wash yourselves.

Don't forget to dry.

Then go home to your cupboards 

And settle neatly on your shelves.

I'll see you in the morning

When it's time for breakfast.