That moment when it makes perfect sense to throw a counterful of dirty dishes into the kitchen trash.
No, but it seriously did. It’s not that I am completely unhinged.
Sometimes, when plain English fails, when polite appeals and gentle reminders and stern warnings also fail, it’s the only thing left to do to get the attention of a 16 year old who has been actively avoiding washing them for at least the last 18 hours and still doesn’t react even after you find her calmly watching YouTube videos on her laptop and start to blurt out the sentence, “What the–” and only just manage to stop in time.
So from that standpoint, it was a successful venture, anyway.
I suppose I didn’t really need her to think I’m a normal person.
In the interest of full disclosure, I must admit that I did not actually break any dishes, since my “throwing” of the dishes into the trash was a much more calm and methodical affair than the title implies. Because, you know, I had a point to make, but I’m not that well-off that I can just go buy a new set of dishes any time soon.