Since the beginning of time, women from all over the globe have suffered through daily hardship. At the end of each meal, as the cave men went out to hunt for the next, the poor wives, daughters and conquests were left with the bloody task of washing up. As centuries went by this form of gentle torture continued, expanding as people became civilized and decided that plates and cutlery were a good idea. Although, the rich privileged upper-class would never experience the trauma of having to touch a plate but with their engraved silver knives and forks, imparting the unpleasant chore on to their poor downstairs servants.
Then, in the 1900s, under the false guise of attaining equal voting rights, the suffragette movement began; its true aim to eradicate washing up. An aim which was not achieved. However, it did serve to drag men, kicking and screaming, into the kitchen and offer a clumsy helping hand, lessening the burden of 20th century women.
Fast forward a few years and meet the modern-day world. With the speedy progression of technology and the fast pace of life, washing up has become a hindrance, and an unnecessary obstacle that has fortunately been eliminated thanks to the most revolutionary invention of our time. No, I don’t mean paper plates. I mean… The Dishwasher.
This miracle machine has improved the lives of many working mothers, aquaphobics, pensioners, lazy college students etc. and now that list will extend to include my family. At long last, after months of my father obsessively searching the internet for the best prices and my mother constantly giving hints, reminders and complaints, we have received our new dishwasher! It probably has something to do with the fact that my aunt is coming for a two-week visit but why ponder the reason when I could just be grateful?
From my extreme excitement you would be fooled into thinking that I actually did the washing up but it
is had always been my father’s area of expertise. At the end of each meal, armed with soap and sponge, he would be the first to get up, leave to his post at the sink and dutifully wash up as we brought him the dishes. Those days are over. Sorry Dad, but you’re out of the job.