Elle and Doing {Dishes} at {The Boyfriend's} House

{The Boyfriend} and I have been dating for a little over a month and a half now. He hasn't really discovered my crazy side yet {there's plenty of time for that} and I haven't discovered his. I'd like to keep him from discovering my {crazy} side until he's really locked in for the long haul. Keeping the {crazy} hidden is easy when you're never in the same city as each other...

Anyway, we've both been out of town so much that when we are actually both in the city of Seattle, we spend our time together. Doing fun things - like {not} cleaning our houses. Because of this, the dishes started piling up a little at {The Boyfriends} house {and mine}. I'm no stranger to getting behind on housework, so I'm not bothered by this too much.

On the first {and last} sunny Seattle day we decided to BBQ and make a yummy grilled chicken Caesar salad. Because my honey did all the hard work on the grill, I thought it would be nice of me to do the dishes. {All} of the dishes.

So after dinner I get right to work in the kitchen. I'm pretty familiar with things in a kitchen. Like plates. Silverware. Cups. The usual. I feel confident in my ability to load a dishwasher. I do a little pre-washing action and then load the dishes in the dishwasher where it make sense. I know plates usually go on the bottom and cups usually go on the top. You know. That kind of stuff. I've always been pretty good at Tetris. I may not be perfect, but I get the job done.

Piece of cake!

So, I'm working away in the kitchen. Not my favorite thing to do in the world, but I'll do it for {The Boyfriend}. You know, show him I appreciate him cooking and all that.

He comes into the kitchen.  And this is what I'm imagining happening in my head. --->The two of us. Throwing soap bubbles at each other and giggling. Making out. Snapping towels. You know. All happy and sappy and flirty and stuff.

Doing the dishes is so much fun!

Instead he tells me I loaded the dishwasher wrong.

Wait. What?

He says that 'these' plates go here and 'those' plates go there. The romantic comedy soundtrack playing in my head comes to a screeching halt. So he's saying that even those 'these' plates fit here, and 'those' plates fit there, they actually should be switched around? No 'hey Elle, thank you for doing the dishes!!? Kiss kiss.' No tossing soap bubbles? No giggling? No making out on the kitchen counter?

Lame. Sauce.

This boy...

It reminds me of when my dad told me {10} years ago that I was cutting tomatoes the wrong way whilst I was making dinner for my family. I didn't realize there was a right way...And yes. I still remember that. And no, I'll never forget it.

xoxo,
Elle