monster sarcasm rally

I went to private school. Now, those of you who aren't Canadian are probably thinking 'huh?' Those of you who are Canadian will immediately assume I'm some sort of snob. You'll also start picturing trampy teenage girls in their cute little crotch-length skirts.

This wasn't that sort of private school. This was the sort where we wore hideously ugly uniforms, which even the skankiest of my classmates were ashamed of. Well, particularly them. They involved long skirts and frumpy sweaters. Make-up was permitted, but not too much.

This was also the sort of school where girls took Home Ec and boys took Industrial Arts.

Now, you may be surprised to learn that (even as a 12-year-old) I didn't take very kindly to this idea. I wanted to take IA. I wanted to work with tools. I wanted to build crappy little bird houses. Home Ec was all about cooking and sewing and cleaning and managing a happy home. In fact, the class should have been called How To Be a Good Little Christian Housewife. Bite me, I say.

Anywho...

I was perhaps not as nice to the Home Ec teachers as I could have been. The fact that we once went through 10 (that's right, I said TEN) in one year may have had something to do with this. We had a class of five girls, and we managed to burn out 10 Home Ec teachers in one 10-month school year. And by 'we' I mean 'me'. Well, 'I' actually, since 'me' would be gramatically incorrect. But it does rhyme. Look at me, I'm digressing...

Anyways...

I wasn't the best Home Ec student. I frequently refused to co-operate, botched anything I touched, and offered up more than a few snarky comebacks. I remember one girl saying she was allergic to dish soap. Instead of just handing her a friggin' pair of rubber gloves and telling her to get on with it, they let her sit out while the rest of us did them. I stated that I was allergic to hot water, and should therefore be allowed to join her on the bench. No such luck.

God has a sense of humour, eh.

Many years later, I developed an allergy to coconut. As years progress, the allergy continues to get worse. Soap is made from coconut. I managed to find a single non-coconut soap that I use for myself and my laundry, however, there are no coconut-free dish soaps. My life has come full circle. I am now actually allergic to washing dishes. Rubber gloves just ain't gonna cut it. I have a full-blown asthma attack every time I wash a load of dishes.

Cute but Kinda Evil and I had been sharing most of the dishwashing between us. Now, of course, that isn't possible. The boys (Ford, Shane and As Yet Unrechristened) aren't going to do their dishes. And frankly, when they do, we pick them up and put them back in the sink for re-washing anyways. Our kitchen is rapidly descending into the realm of Disgusting Beyond Words.

Yesterday I gave up and put a bid on a dishwasher at eBay. The girls have said they'll contribute some money towards it. The boys, on the other hand, have declared it an unnecessary expense. Besides, they all make less money than we do.

Dishwasher! Dishwasher! Dishwasher! Happy, happy dishwasher!

the end

I'm sorry. You weren't waiting for this to go somewhere, were you?