There are few things that I dislike worse than doing the dishes. 

Maybe shaving, and picking up dog poop, but dishes still easily rank within my top three because it seems like no matter how many loads I do, I’m just one night’s sleep away from returning to total chaos in the kitchen – like I’m living in some bizarro world version of Beauty & the Beast where everything comes to life to empty all of the cupboards instead of the other way around!

If I had it my way, I’d gladly pay some stranger to come to the house just to do the dishes. And throw my underwear in the hamper. Any maybe tidy up in the playroom so I don’t trip on singing cars every time I pass through…

I don’t know if any self-respecting, professional maid would really want that job, though … what with the dishes all coming to life and singing and dancing as they dirty themselves every night anyways. 🙁