What Your Dirty Dishes (Would) Think of You

Day one:

“Wow, that was a great meal, wasn’t it?” The bowl rejoices, “We did an incredible job holding food for the human.”

The cutlery [telekinetically, I guess] hum their agreement.

“She sorta scratched me with the fork . . .” The non-stick pan mutters, gloomy as ever. The non-stick pan is useful, but also kinda too ornery for everyone else’s taste.

“Hey, I’m just an extension of the human’s righteous arm, it’s not my fault.”

Per usual, the non-stick pan doesn’t stick around very long after the meal is over. Once the human carries it away to The Cleaning Place, everyone agrees that it’s not the fork’s fault the non-stick pan is a little scratched.

Day two:

The coffee mug is getting restless, “I wonder what the human’s up to right now. Usually she needs me in the mornings? Is she OK?”

“Don’t worry about her,” Bowl says reassuringly. Bowl has known human for two years, “I’m sure she just went with the travel thermos this morning. She’s a busy girl.”

Day three:

The dishes begin to feel uncomfortable in their dish-skin. Tempers wear thin as sticky residue develops on each and every one of them. Every sighting of the human is both a cause for hope and an opening for disappointment.

Bowl has known the human longer than the rest and knows her habits. The bowl knows better than to expect relief quickly. If anything, it’s best to keep your hopes low.

“What is she even doing right now??” Fork rages, once-silver twines straining under a coating of long-dried meat sauce. “It’s fine if she ignores us when she’s sleeping, but she’s just staring at her typing device!”

“And not even typing!” Spoon chimes in.

“It’s Buzzfeed!” Water bottle reports from beside Human. Water bottle is her constant companion. The other dishes envy the water bottle and the travel mug. They’ve never seen the outside world, only the confines of Human’s bedrooms and various Cleaning Places. The newest dishes, the cutlery, have only seen this room. They hunger for a change of pace – or at least to be washed.

“Not Buzzfeed again!” The dishes groan in unison, save the Bowl, who knows Human all too well.

Bowl sighs, addressing its compatriots calmly, “It is best not to expect mercy from Human. She knows not what she does.”

 

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