Dishes

I’ve been washing my own dishes for several years now. When I’m home, my parents do them because it’s easier; when I was in boarding school, we just had to put them away and they were cleaned for us. But ever since I live alone, I cook, eat and wash. Feels like an endless cycle.

I never liked doing this because it’s difficult to hold something in my right hand and scrub or wash with my left. I sometimes drop things: a long time ago, my parents brought me a special glass for ice coffee, and I broke it the very same day. Now I just see the dishes as a chore. Maybe that means I’m growing up.