Watched glee, did shopping woolworths & stayed home pretty much. Now for what happened just then.

In advance, sorry if my language seems overdramatic, nerdy & way too detailed. But I'm in a state of shock that only weird sentences can overcome.. ^ ^

Today, I realised that I will never be a housewife. & thank God, I don't have the skills or the character or whatever you need. FAR OUT. LOL & it's not like it was my ambition or whatever. I always thought that I never really complained that much & I wasn't a highmaintenance or girly girl who screams at everything but that scrubbing the dishes thing sucked. I also admit it's pretty normal & probably everyone has washed the dishes but I absolutely suck.

Dad was like today, "For all your life, mum has been doing everything for you too & now occasionally, we need to help around in the house".
Sarah & I were like -roll eyes-, he's said that before, back to doing whatever we're doing. I mean seriously, if we were a few decades back, we would already know how to cook & sew & wash & clean & make a sandwich :DD. but because we're us & it is now, we're clueless. Needless to say, sarah & I were just like "nooooo" while still thinking we wouldn't actually have to do it.

So, today, it was dad & I who got the task of washing the dishes. I hate germs. I hate mess. As everyone knows at school at least, I can't share food or drink & can't scab off anyone either because I'm a germaphobic. & today, I was forced to touch the murky detergent water, slap on a pair of gloves, use the sponge with foodscrap clinging to it. I think I screamed every time I got the chance to or when I wasn't speechless with horror. Dad kept laughing at my stupidity but, in my defence, anyone would've done the same.

Loading the dishwasher consisted of me almost dropping the dishes, screaming when a grain of rice stuck to the gloves & poking them in, trying not to touch them too much. It was like an alien thing, I swear. & dad kept rolling his eyes when I yelled out like a gleek, "ohh the horror".
& then actually cleaning the remainder was horrible. I kept insisting on scrubbing the plates & cutlery with new detergent ten times because obviously they weren't clean enough & the detergent looked like it had been there yesterday. Dad just had to remind me that everything I was cleaning was stuff I eat off everyday which made me almost sick. There were food scraps at the bottom of the sink [the plug thing] & I really couldn't imagine that the forks & spoons I use touch that crap.
I was crying & wailing when dad took them away from me, & was like "THAT'S ENOUGH". He then proceeded to remind me that the restaurants & places we go to are run by kitchenhands who do a far less detergentwasting & waterwasting job with their cutlery & plates & that made me even more depressed & traumatized.

It's a germaphobic's worst nightmare. LOL but at times it was pretty funny because dad's face was priceless, I think it was more work for him trying to shut me up. Mum was resting for once in her life & I was dying. I then used the rag to clean the table & dad actually had to teach me how to do it but then again, I'm proud just because I didn't say a word while doing it. Sarah kept looking back from reading to groan as I dropped everything & complained. Dad & I had many conversations about how the toilet seat was cleaner than the cutting board & then he corrected me by telling me the difference between dirtier & "more germs". Apparently, urine is the purest substance. Which is weird & unnecessary & something I totally didn't have to include in this, I'm sorry (:

It's sort of an inside joke but just so I don't forget years from now.. Mum always complains about being sick & she claims constantly she has a "chronic fatigue syndrome" & I, as her dutiful daughter, named it "hypochondria". So she always ends up resting up in her bed or the sofa where usually Sarah & I interrupt her & she jokingly yells about how she never has any time for herself & groans/stutters in distress.

Well after I did the dishes [so calmly ofc], I rushed off to tell mum about my adventure. She was on the computer but I basically wailed about how my childhood was scarred & that it was the worst experience of my life & informed her on how we need to replace all the kitchen stuff every night. She then asked what we would do if her or dad got into an accident & we needed to take care of ourselves. Which is when I promptly, answered with "grandma; duh". But then she retalliated, going "grace, she's 75..". "FINE ; sarah then, jeez, just not me".

& then I huffed like an old lady who had just done all the work in the world & flumped down on the sofa, wailing about chronic fatigue & how everything was just too much. It was really appropriate for the situation, tyvm.

LOL it was pretty fun doing it for the first time honestly & almost as fun reporting my adventures of the grossness of used dishes & the unhygienic ways of the kitchen. & that is why I refuse to do it ever again. hehe; good memory though, ayeeee.

THE END.

Watched glee, did shopping woolworths & stayed home pretty much. Now for what happened just then.

In advance, sorry if my language seems overdramatic, nerdy & way too detailed. But I'm in a state of shock that only weird sentences can overcome.. ^ ^

Today, I realised that I will never be a housewife. & thank God, I don't have the skills or the character or whatever you need. FAR OUT. LOL & it's not like it was my ambition or whatever. I always thought that I never really complained that much & I wasn't a highmaintenance or girly girl who screams at everything but that scrubbing the dishes thing sucked. I also admit it's pretty normal & probably everyone has washed the dishes but I absolutely suck.

Dad was like today, "For all your life, mum has been doing everything for you too & now occasionally, we need to help around in the house".
Sarah & I were like -roll eyes-, he's said that before, back to doing whatever we're doing. I mean seriously, if we were a few decades back, we would already know how to cook & sew & wash & clean & make a sandwich :DD. but because we're us & it is now, we're clueless. Needless to say, sarah & I were just like "nooooo" while still thinking we wouldn't actually have to do it.

So, today, it was dad & I who got the task of washing the dishes. I hate germs. I hate mess. As everyone knows at school at least, I can't share food or drink & can't scab off anyone either because I'm a germaphobic. & today, I was forced to touch the murky detergent water, slap on a pair of gloves, use the sponge with foodscrap clinging to it. I think I screamed every time I got the chance to or when I wasn't speechless with horror. Dad kept laughing at my stupidity but, in my defence, anyone would've done the same.

Loading the dishwasher consisted of me almost dropping the dishes, screaming when a grain of rice stuck to the gloves & poking them in, trying not to touch them too much. It was like an alien thing, I swear. & dad kept rolling his eyes when I yelled out like a gleek, "ohh the horror".
& then actually cleaning the remainder was horrible. I kept insisting on scrubbing the plates & cutlery with new detergent ten times because obviously they weren't clean enough & the detergent looked like it had been there yesterday. Dad just had to remind me that everything I was cleaning was stuff I eat off everyday which made me almost sick. There were food scraps at the bottom of the sink [the plug thing] & I really couldn't imagine that the forks & spoons I use touch that crap.
I was crying & wailing when dad took them away from me, & was like "THAT'S ENOUGH". He then proceeded to remind me that the restaurants & places we go to are run by kitchenhands who do a far less detergentwasting & waterwasting job with their cutlery & plates & that made me even more depressed & traumatized.

It's a germaphobic's worst nightmare. LOL but at times it was pretty funny because dad's face was priceless, I think it was more work for him trying to shut me up. Mum was resting for once in her life & I was dying. I then used the rag to clean the table & dad actually had to teach me how to do it but then again, I'm proud just because I didn't say a word while doing it. Sarah kept looking back from reading to groan as I dropped everything & complained. Dad & I had many conversations about how the toilet seat was cleaner than the cutting board & then he corrected me by telling me the difference between dirtier & "more germs". Apparently, urine is the purest substance. Which is weird & unnecessary & something I totally didn't have to include in this, I'm sorry (:

It's sort of an inside joke but just so I don't forget years from now.. Mum always complains about being sick & she claims constantly she has a "chronic fatigue syndrome" & I, as her dutiful daughter, named it "hypochondria". So she always ends up resting up in her bed or the sofa where usually Sarah & I interrupt her & she jokingly yells about how she never has any time for herself & groans/stutters in distress.

Well after I did the dishes [so calmly ofc], I rushed off to tell mum about my adventure. She was on the computer but I basically wailed about how my childhood was scarred & that it was the worst experience of my life & informed her on how we need to replace all the kitchen stuff every night. She then asked what we would do if her or dad got into an accident & we needed to take care of ourselves. Which is when I promptly, answered with "grandma; duh". But then she retalliated, going "grace, she's 75..". "FINE ; sarah then, jeez, just not me".

& then I huffed like an old lady who had just done all the work in the world & flumped down on the sofa, wailing about chronic fatigue & how everything was just too much. It was really appropriate for the situation, tyvm.

LOL it was pretty fun doing it for the first time honestly & almost as fun reporting my adventures of the grossness of used dishes & the unhygienic ways of the kitchen. & that is why I refuse to do it ever again. hehe; good memory though, ayeeee.

THE END.