And then it all went downhill fast.
A small child ran into our room. "We are doing the dishes mom." She said gleefully. And then, not even checking to see if I was truly awake or not, she was gone again. [You forgot the previous sleep interruption where she runs into the room, slams into the bed, then runs back yelling "They're asleep! I just jumped on their bed and they didn't wake up!" THAT should have been our warning.] I knew that tone; it was not so much an exchange of information as it was an admittance of guilt. This had been my opportunity to put an end to her behavior - if I wanted to. I had missed it by not catching her in the 2.4 seconds it took her to tell me and flee the scene. Her guilt from doing something she knew she generally needed permission for was prompting her to inform me, but her morals ended there. I had been informed, I had not stormed out of bed - therefore she now had permission to continue "washing the dishes."
I laid still for a moment, listening - a moms' best tool. There were no sounds of dishes clinking, no water running. Could it be that this was an imaginary game they were playing? But no, the tone had been unmistakable.
I didn't have to wonder long....
"Mom!" My four year old yelled as she bounded back into my room. "The washing machine is exploding!"
NOW I bounded out of bed. A quick glace at the silent washing machine on my way out into the hall assured me that it was the dish-washer she intended to say...
Now - my kids have a book. It was one of those dollar spot Sesame Street books you can occasionally get at target. Now let me see if I can remember all the words...
Bubbles, Bubbles on my nose.
Bubbles, Bubbles on my toes.
Bubbles, Bubbles in my hair,
Bubbles Bubbles EVERYWHERE!
Bubbles, Bubbles float on top.
Bubbles, Bubbles, Pop pop pop (that is my 14month old's favorite part)
There is more to the story, but I think you get the idea. And if you still are clueless as to what the problem was, let me educate you on what happens when you use dish washing soap in the dishwasher, instead of dishwasher detergent:
Needless to say - I gathered towels.
You see - this blog is not so much about kids and the shenanigans they cause - this blog is about how our daddy can fix anything. And I mean anything. There will be two parts - my side of the story, and his. Hopefully in the midst of it all you can glean some useful information. For instance, what to do if/when YOUR child decides to...er..."help" with the dishes.
If you haven't noticed already, I like words. A lot. So if you don't want to be bogged down with words, I suggest you only read his part. Trust me, it will be better that way.
This is how the fix looked to me:
Dad pulls himself casually out of bed with a sigh. You see, it is waffle morning. That means dad makes breakfast...but that now wont happen until the kitchen is clean. Well, technically the kitchen [and the single sippy-cup in the dishwasher] is clean [well, the outside of the cup was clean - it works a lot better if you take the lid off of it before you wash it]. It is getting cleaner by the moment actually! Clean meaning NOT covered in bubbles.
He immediately makes the dishwasher start draining, how he knows exactly where to turn the knob to make it do so is beyond me. But he is kinda the "electronic-item whisperer" Ooh! Maybe that should be the name of this blog! [Between cycles, the dishwasher drains the water from the previous cycle before starting the next one. I just set it to the rinse cycle and start it. You might have to set it to the end of the cycle before it if yours drains at the end of a cycle instead of the start of the next.]
Anyhow - he grunts once or twice, probably speaking the language of the dishwasher. And then walks into the garage and out into the front yard.
Of course - makes sense...right? That is totally what I would do too if faced with a kitchen floor of bubbles. Right? [It was sunny and cool out there - I should have grabbed a lawn chair and a book.]
He comes in a moment later, with the garden hose. I am suddenly filled with a sense of dread I cannot truly explain. [In her defense, there was probably a maniacal look on my face when I walked in, but that's normal whenever I've been in the garage for more than a few seconds... or I'm responding to an emergency before I've had my coffee. Today, both cases were true.]
He then proceeds to spray out the inside of the machine, closes it, drains it, does it again. OK, the whole hose thing makes sense now. [This wasn't the first time I've had to clean overflowing dish-soap from this dishwasher. You could let the rinse cycle fill it up, run for a bit, then drain again, but that takes a looooong time.]
Then my earlier dread is explained as a child shows herself to be mischievous and un-rully (as small children do occasionally, especially before parents have had their coffee) and the glint in my husbands eyes as he points the garden hose at the child...who is in my living-room, makes me panic for a moment. And I realize that I am not entirely sure he is not going to spray a stream of water directly into the living-room! [I wasn't sure either.]
He doesn't. [This time] All it takes is 3-4 minutes of rinsing and everything is sparkling again. No more bubbles, no more mess.
Then coffee and waffles are made and all is right in the kitchen. You see, our daddy is very good at fixing things. He fixed the dishwasher, the dirty kitchen floor, the tired mom and the hungry family all in the space of an hour!
We like him a lot, he is very useful to have around - aside from the whole "threatening to saturate my living room" thing [..and the tool budget]. But we forgive him these things anyway, especially when he makes waffles.
