Who am I? That’s another question I have been asking myself a lot lately. I’ve changed. Some may say it is called growing up. I think I am morphing into a bit of a pod person myself. Recently I realized I wanted coasters. Who does that? I’m not a crazy neat-freak like my Aunt Nancy. I’m not completely anal about things like my mother. Except… I think I’m turning out to be them.
We’ve had Sunday dinners at Gram’s house for most of my life (now, my house). There was a period of about 4 or 5 years we didn’t which I think we all regret still. We allowed life to get in the way, things to get too busy. After my grandfather passed we realized that some things need to be a priority so Sunday dinners resumed.
After dinner people would set about cleaning the table. Not because we were anxious to clean, it was to clear the way for dessert. Again, priorities. In all honesty, if I did help, it was because I wanted dessert. I’ve never been overly ambitious in the cleaning department. Anyway, we’d carry the dishes from the kitchen table (or patio table if the weather was nice), and carry them to the sink. I’d start loading dishes right into the dishwasher while my Aunt Nan would start rinsing dishes until they were spotless. It seemed like such a wasted effort. If you were going to go that far why not just wash the dish by hand?
I remember going round and round with her about the merits of rinsing versus loading in the dishwasher. I refused to rinse. In my mind that was her being ridiculous and was an uncalled for, unnecessary extra step. I’d roll my eyes as she rinsed away any evidence of food ever having been on the plate. Brazenly, I’d load my dishes, spaghetti sauce covered and all, into the dishwasher, announcing I’d let the dishwasher do its job.
Fast forward about fifteen years. I pre-rinse my dishes now. I fought against it long and hard. Eventually though I got tired of pulling still dirty dishes out of the dishwasher. Worse than dirty because now the bits of left over food were baked on and more difficult to remove. I pre-rinse. I wanted coasters because I’d cringe if people went to set a glass down on a wood surface. I always thought coasters were annoying. Now I”m annoyed of the thought of someone not using them.
Who am I becoming? Oh yes, wait, I know the answer to this: I am becoming my mother, my aunts, my grandmother, my cousins. I’m becoming an adult woman with a home of her own. I pre-rinse dishes. I cluck my tongue and remind people to use coasters. I get excited over buying a new mop. Ecstatic over finding greener cleaning solutions that smell amazing. I am becoming what I have always mocked (in a loving way but mocked nonetheless).
Granted my home is hidden under a layer of dust still, I have to do vacuuming and mopping every Sunday before the family comes over (although in my defense Sunday is just as good a day as any to do that). I’m still working out a game plan on the cleaning but my transition to pod person is definitely happening.