My quickie response to this daily prompt: http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/01/prompt-chain-gang/
Dishes. I hand-wash every coffee-stained mug, cheese-crusted plate and greasy spatula. I loathe it because I know that a convenient solution is painfully just out of my grasp. We invented something to take the sting out of suds! Where are my anthropomorphic bubbles? Where’s the sauna for my saucers? I live in an area of Los Angeles where the 1920s bungalows are ill-equipped for modern convenience, so scrub I must. Yes, I realize that most of the world goes without this machine, but it’s like denying a child a candy bar while reminding them that there’s a box of them behind a locked door. However, I have a fantasy I activate on a night of especially gruesome platters. I imagine myself as a prairie woman with a tight, slick bun and muslin apron, wearing no make-up with a strong upper body. I am a no-nonsense mother of five (six if you count poor, departed Sarah), who tackles each tin cup with a fervor that is only matched by her love of the Lord. Before I know it, the sink is clear and I can get to washin’ undershirts and preparing drop biscuits for pa.