Whenever I look in the cabinet for a clean plate and don't see any, my heart sinks to the floor. Jacob has struck again. Inevitably there is a stack of plates in the sink, covered in grease. I don't know if he doesn't put things in the dishwasher because he doesn't know how it works or because he's just a dick. I'm guessing the former. He's always telling me how he doesn't "learn too good."
Now, if it were bacon grease, it wouldn't be so bad. Then I could at least lick it off my fingers as I moved the plates out of the sink. But he doesn't even eat bacon, because he has to keep "kosher." Now I still think he made this kosher crap up, but that's a subject for another post.
What I really hate is that he puts dishes in the sink and then cleans off more dishes on top of the dishes that are already there. This means that all kinds of foul-smelling shit starts to pool up and congeal all over anything left in the sink. And of course, somehow I am the one who always has to run the dishwasher. I've tried waiting him out, but it didn't work. I even hid all of his food so all he would have left was milk and mashed potatoes, stuff you need cups and silverware for at the least. Well what do you know, he dumped the potatoes on a paper towel, poured milk all over it, and stuffed the whole entree, paper towel and all, into his fat little mouth. After that disgusting display, I gave in and did the dishes. What can I say, at least I'm civilized.
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