Dishwash Olympics: Jay's Journal
DAY ONE
I fear this competition and I'll tell you why. I do a lot of dishwashing, but I know that the winner will be able to negate all of the work performed by the loser. That's no way for a man to get a night's sleep (if he loses). I see the points that Patti has added to the score board, and they scare me. To compensate, I find myself making a bagel and eating it on a plate as opposed to the palm of my hand just so I can wash it. If I don't have the title of dishwashing champion, then what do I have? Best grocery shopper? Number one toilet flusher?
DAY TWO
There's an unwritten rule that whoever uses a certain plate is supposed to retain ownership when it comes time to wash it. I declare this rule to be bunk. I snatched one of Patti's dinner plates while she was in the bathroom. The fastest pee-er in the world came out and caught me washing on the side. But that's the only way to win: wash when her back is turned and apologize like hell later.
DAY THREE
I realize now that our method of scoring is ridiculous. A cup is worth three points, but a plate is worth two? Hindsight is twenty/twenty, but we should have done the scoring differently. A cup and plate should be worth two points... unless Patti washes them, in which case they are worth half a point equally. Damn, I'm cutthroat. Why do I care so much about this competition? Because I want to make it up to all of the women of yore who washed dishes while their sports-loving men watched sports. Ladies, this potential win is for you.
DAY FOUR
According to our score chart, I am currently in the lead. I don't want a huge victory, so I might let the long arm of the sink get a little slack. Plus, there's probably a television show on right now that a network wants me to watch. I deserve it. I'm a good kid. Can't a fellow get a Boy Scout merit badge for Not Rubbing It In His Partner's Face?
DAY FIVE
I felt the need to hide my previous day's points from Patti. In theory it provides an element of mystery. But in reality it makes the competition anyone's game and I'm sure that lights a fire under Patti's ass to wash even more dishes.
DAY SIX
There have been a few occasions where we've challenged each other's points.
"What did you wash for seventeen points?" I'll ask.
"A sink load of dishes," she'll respond.
Apparently Patti cooked a large breakfast of French toast, sausage links, and hash browns this morning. Translation: she's going to win. It's going to be a close race, because for every late night batch of tater tots that I make, there's Patti with a mid-afternoon cheese and cracker snack platter.
DAY SEVEN
I'm confident that Patti earned more points than I did today and yesterday. I'm not sure how that affects the other days when I washed more. I guess there's only one way to find out. Get the calculator and my pointing finger ready.
