This is a dishwasher.
More specifically, this is our dishwasher. Notice how there is room in the dishwasher. I make sure it is empty every night. That is to make it convenient for those living in my house to put their dishes into it during the morning rush hour.
This is my sink. 
This is what I find every day. So, one week I decided to not be so accommodating. I just left the dishes in the sink. The pile got pretty high and then Chris washed them…. By hand. He says a dish washer is not for washing dishes, it is for disinfecting them. Explains why his dishes are always on the counter… I guess. Now many of you are screaming in your heads, “This is your fault Pam. You don’t make them!” And you are right. As Chris so aptly told me the other day. “You have given them too many choices. And they choose not to do ANYTHING.” Glad to know it is once again my fault.
This is my stove. 
Ciera made cookies. Thoughtful of the girl, right? She always over cooks them because she gets busy… playing. She really only makes them so she can eat the dough anyway. Don’t know where she learned that from! I told her when she was 8 if she didn’t clean up after baking then she would not be allowed to use my kitchen anymore. That would explain why her dishes aren’t in the dishwasher, they are in my sink, on her desk, under her bed, in her bathroom (?), in the backyard, in my car….
This is a piece of lint. 
I put it in the middle of my floor… as a test. It has been there for about a month. I pick it up when I vacuum and then put it back. I want to see how long it takes for someone else to pick it up. I watch them walk over it, jump over it. I watch them even look at it, but the idea of picking it up? Foreign concept of foreign object by foreign aliens called CHILDREN.
