That moment you figure out that your house smells kinda funny because there's a pan of who knows what that has been buried for who knows how long at the bottom of your kitchen sink. And you try to wash it quickly without puking. Because that won't make the house smell any better.

Gross.

I have this thing where I "do the dishes," which in Jacqui-speak is "I put everything that I could possibly fit in the dishwasher and ran it, and I left whatever didn't fit in the sink. For later." But the problem is, there are several LARGE pots, pans, and bowls that don't fit in the dishwasher, or wouldn't get clean that way, so sometimes they just live in the sink for a loooong time. Until I need to use them again. Or until we have people over, in which case I shove them all into the oven.

#noyoucantusetheoven #sorry #itsbroken

Don't judge. My system is a well-oiled machine. And I need to hire a dishes fairy. #stat

How would that work, anyways? Would the dishes fairy know that they need to stop by the night dishes start falling out of the overflowing sink onto the floor, much like the tooth fairy knows they need to come when a tooth falls out of one's mouth? Or maybe when we put the dirty dishes into the oven. If that's not a cry for help, I don't know what is...

I think I might have a line on one, actually. His name is Clayton, and he can start tomorrow. I'll let you know how that goes.