Dear Peyton and Katherine,
Your mother told me she’d love for us to become better acquainted this summer, as she feels you both have been ignoring me. We’ve always tried to be an inclusive family and empathetic to the feelings of others. I must say, I feel a little left out.
Let me give you a few examples.
When you, Peyton, made your “famous omelettes” yesterday morning (okay, it was closer to noon), I couldn’t help but notice the egg-coated frying pan which sat on the stove top for hours after you’d finished your brunch. In addition, I wondered who would scrub the yellow yoke encrusted on the green glass bowl you left on the counter, not to mention the dried Cholula sauce on your plate. Sounds gross, but it kind of resembled a scab. These dishes give me pause. You know why? Cleaning them is a difficult task—even for a dishwasher. That’s why, particularly when it comes to eggs, it’s imperative to rinse dishes directly after using them and before passing them along to me. Wait, have they ever been passed along to me? Seems you prefer piling them in the sink, ignoring me altogether. Hence, my hurt feelings.
So, Peyton, I know you have been away at college and you just want to unwind now that you are home for the summer. After all, I realize most of your free time in school has been spent toiling away in the library. All those photos of you sipping wine — shoot, I mean water — from red solo cups were merely hydration breaks. But here’s the deal: you know how you took that environmental class last semester? Well, using me to wash your glasses probably would be better for the environment than chucking those red solo cups, which wind up in a crumpled heap in some landfill outside of Charlottesville.
And, Katherine, don’t think you are off the hook. You may be slightly neater than your older sister, but you have excluded me as well. Visitors to our household really enjoy those savory roasted almonds and cashews you make. Your mother says they taste amazing. But all that organic extra virgin olive oil, Himalayan sea salt, and turmeric can cause a bit of a mess. Here’s a fun fact: that spice the color of a New York cab actually stains. Just ask my friend the refrigerator across from me. You left some yellow fingerprints on its door last night after mixing your nut concoction. I realize turmeric helps fight inflammation and all, but let’s try washing your hands.
In closing, I hope we can be friends. Otherwise, your mother says there’s a rental apartment down the street. The rent is cheap, but, unfortunately, it doesn’t come with a dishwasher. Fret not, though, the scrub brush is a friend of mine. I’d be more than happy to introduce you.