Kentucky Derby? I like it. But sadly, I think I’ll have to decline. We got a new dishwasher this week, which is good because the old one didn’t really even work when we moved in, which meant we had like three eighths of a dishwasher and now we have half a dishwasher. (Our dishwashers are very small in this duplex, and we only have one drawer in our kitchen—I would prefer zero drawers, I think. One drawer feels insulting.)
Anyway, it’s hard for me to promise I’ll watch the race, because the dishwasher’s pretty cool. It sings a little song when it’s done. Robot song, of course, but it’s a song. And the racks slide in and out really smoothly. It doesn’t fit perfectly under the counter, so if you’re a dog and you step on the door while it’s open, it will briefly tip forward like it’s going to fall on top of you but it’ll catch itself on the screws the installation man put in to keep it from falling on top of dogs, children, and feet (the big three), which will really relieve the person watching the happenings and not affect your oblivious little self in the slightest.
Enjoy your horses, everybody. I’m gonna go do some dishes.
