The timing is all off around here.
My oven gives me one chance – one blasted chance! – to get the cookies out of the oven. It’s this whispery little beep that can only be heard if I’m right there in the kitchen, close enough to smell the chocolate chip aroma before it burns.
But the dishwasher will beep all the livelong day – all the livelong day! – to tell me that the dishes are washed, steamed, and spot free. And you can hear the honkety honk all over the house.
“Yoohoo! Remember us? Doing our job here. Still clean!”
“Hooray for your clean coffee cups and stemmed goblets!”
Cookies? A little too crispy around their golden edges. Because I had a milisecond’s notice to rescue them from baked demise.
But, dude. My dishes remain clean.
(“Hey, we’re just sayin. We’re still clean.”)