People who think the dishwasher is a godd–m miracle worker.
Once again I open the diswasher to discover dirty pots and pans nonchalantly placed in there from several days ago. I’m a self-admitted slob and even I know better than to pull this stunt.
My father stood over me everytime I was around the dishwasher for 20+ years. Nothing got past that man. For him, loading the dishwasher was a strategic battlefield. Large utensils should lay horizontally on the top shelf. Plates were lined up a certain way; bowls too. Don’t put too many forks, knives, and spoons together in one utensil section and make sure some are facing up and others down, so everything gets hit with hot water and soap. And most importantly: Some dishes require a quick scrub-down using one’s own hand before going in the dishwasher.
And for christ’s sake, don’t expect the magical fairies who live inside the dishwasher to drop in and hand-scrub your dirty lasanga pan because you want to half-ass everything.
Consequently, these same dishes that went in dirty, come out dirty even after the mystical dishwashing cycle, whereafter they go into the sink to be washed “for real” this time. This happens about once a week. Isn’t the dishwasher doing enough already? How much instant gratification can you need?
My roommate has dropped many veiled and not-so-veiled insults about my “laziness.” I may be lazy, but I’m not dumb enough to wash the same set of dishes twice in a row.