Dishy Washy

I am in love with an inanimate object. She cost me $150 on eBay and she is cheap to run. I love my dishwasher. She is my comrade in the war against grotty kids. As a single mother with children who have lost the use of their legs and their ability to put socks in the washing machine, my dishwasher is my best friend and one true love.

My friend calls dishwashers the marriage saver, perhaps only if you marry someone who doesn’t have substance abuse issues. My DW is addicted to tablets, but she stopped me doing the dishes. I hate fancy plates that don’t fit in her warm wet insides. Anything delicate is banished from my kitchen. If I bribe my youngest hooligan she sometimes unloads my dishwashy friend.

I adore taking my kids to the park knowing that my dish pig is hard at work filling my flat with the pong of detergent. When we return home I open her up and my face is hit with a blast of her wonderful wafting steam.

She has great rhythm, I love the way she hums at night; I go to sleep in my living room to the soothing sound of the white machine slaving over my cutlery and pans. Bliss in a box.


You know you’re a single mother on Boxing Day when

You let your kids watch cute cats doing stupid stuff on the internet all day
You open a beer at 9.30am
You can’t see the living room floor and the presents were opened nearly 2 days ago
You think left over, dried out potato salad is all kids need to eat all day
The sun is shining but the couch and TV have reserved a place for your fat bum
The brandy custard in the fridge has your name and ‘do not touch or I will send you to boarding school’ written on the label
Your drunk redneck neighbours call your name and you think climbing over their fence for a drink at 10pm is a wise decision
Your youngest child complains about a stomach ache and you pour her a shandy
You steal your children’s Christmas presents so you can regift to the neighbours’ kids because you forgot to buy them anything
Your children are still eating Christmas candy canes at 8.30pm
You let your kids play with sparklers unsupervised in the street so you can watch endless hours of cats doing mindless funny stuff on the net


Single mother Christmas wish list version 1.1

All I want for Christmas is:
Intelligent people with vision to govern us
Sleep
A live in maid
A cure for brain cancer
Sanity
Toys that won’t be broken by Boxing Day or as they call it in children’s hospitals emergency departments ‘superhero day.’

Merry Bah Humbug festival of over spending to you and your loved ones