(Ignore the cobweb on the wall behind the table. I didn’t see it until after I’d taken the picture. It’s gone now.)
Back to the plate.
We have twelve of these. Or had. Maybe still have, I’m not sure. This morning there were none of these dirty in the sink. There were none of these clean in the dishwasher. There was just this poor, lonely plate in the cabinet.
Where the hell are our plates?
Could they be here?
It’s a distinct possibility. Son Two actually did a respectable job of cleaning his room for the Realtor showing yesterday, but I don’t know what’s in the closet or behind his dust ruffle.
Honestly, I’m hoping they are in his closet or behind his dust ruffle, because if I find out he’s been throwing away our plates to simplify cleaning his room, the boy is toast.
Somebody cover me, I’m going in.
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1 response so far ↓
1 laurie // Jul 16, 2008 at 10:12 am
whooooaaa golly that’s a room and a half.
when i had my very first apartment, years and years ago, i used to throw away my dishes instead of wash them and then go to goodwill to get more.
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