I just did a weeks worth of dishes. Not even kidding. Bottles, bowls, coffee cups, almost every pan we own…The only counter space in our kitchen not covered by dirty dishes was in front of the microwave and Keurig {priorities}. Granted, we have minimal counter space to begin with so it gets covered quickly, but there really was no excuse for the filth… I just didn’t want to do dishes. There’s something about washing bottles that I really despise. Thank goodness we go through minimal bottle paraphernalia because I breastfeed {nursing, for the win}!

Also {apparently I drank truth serum tonight} my husband told me yesterday that he would do the dishes because ‘I don’t want you to hate me’.
Yikes.
Me: ‘I won’t hate you’
Him: ‘well, I don’t want you to be mad at me’
Me: ‘I won’t be mad at you’
Him: ‘well, I don’t want you to have disdain for me’
Me: ‘ok’

It seems I have a pretty bad habit of being grumpy towards him when I have to do the dishes. I H.A.T.E. doing the dishes. Wrinkly fingers, dry skin, the bits of food circling the drain… Gah, just typing that gave me a full body shiver.
Nevertheless, it makes me feel awful to think that my husband would do something just so I wouldn’t be grumpy towards him, and especially for something that i have no grounds to be grumpy about. I definitely need to work on my servant’s attitude. I started tonight by washing with a smile on my face.

Also, since we are already confessing, I’ll offer full disclosure: after I finished washing everything and cleaning the counters I rewarded my ‘awesome housekeeping’ with a giant bowl of icecream {and a few spoonfulls straight from the carton}.