Sponsored by Fisher & Paykel

Do you have a dishwasher?

I’ll admit that it took me longer than most to embrace the dishwasher when we moved into our first house, nine years ago. Whilst Hubbster stacked and loaded it with relish, I would wonder what all the fuss was about. What was wrong with a good old fashioned wash in the sink? (But, having said that, unlike Hubbster, I had grown up in the UK where there was never any room for a dishwasher in the kitchen due to the fact that the washing machine was in there!)

Okay…so the glasses did come out sparkling (unlike the smeary one’s on the draining board that I’d just washed by hand)…and I had to admit, when Hubbster did the dishes he was done in a fraction of the time…but really? What’s wrong with a good old fashioned wash in the sink?

After a few weeks as a married couple in our first home, an unspoken agreement was established that suited us both. Hubbster would take care of the loading of the dishwasher, and I would unload and put things away. It seems incredible now looking back, but we continued this way (with me having absolutely no idea how to even turn the dishwasher on) for around five years.

With two toddlers with very healthy appetites, and a small baby to care for, it wasn’t long before my attitude towards that labour-saving device turned full circle. I couldn’t stand to leave the plates, cups, and cutlery mounting up on the workbench until Hubbster returned from work, and between preparing healthy meals and snacks for my boys, and nursing my daughter, I already felt as though I spent all my time in the kitchen. The time it would take me to hand wash the dishes several times a day (not to mention the amount of water I’d use), could be better spent with my family. I relinquished my self-imposed ban on the dishwasher, and started packing those dishes away out of sight.

Fast forward to today. For the last six months I have been mourning the death of my dishwasher. How did I ever manage before it? It was a very very sad day last Summer, when my daughter Bubble, unbeknownst to me, decided that she would help to stack my dishwasher with a delicious bowl full of sand-cake that she had prepared earlier – effectively turning my poor dishwasher into an indoor cement mixer!

“There is no point replacing it yet,” Hubbster has been telling me as I peer at him through a mountain of dishes moping my brow with shrivelled dish-pan hands. “We might as well wait until we get the new kitchen.”

Sometimes I think that the promise of a new kitchen has been the only thing that has stopped me from throttling him. I don’t ever remember seeing him wash a dish, or a plate or even a cup by hand in the last 13 years.

“Okay honey,” I smile through gritted teeth. “But please, just remember the future of our marriage and more pressingly your health depends on me getting that dishwasher, so don’t stall it out too long.”

But, it makes sense, I know it does. Space is the other thing that seems to be in far shorter supply since our family grew from the two of us, to five. The space in my kitchen is not maximised, and to be honest it is ugly and old, and no matter how much I scrub it, it never has that lovely shiny, clean look.

Last Sunday at a friend’s birthday party, one of the other guests just so happened to be a cabinet maker. I did cartwheels in my head as I nudged Hubbster in the right direction. The good news is that we have arranged for him to pay us (and our ugly little kitchen) a visit in the not too distant future. I am one step closer to my new dishwasher…high five!!!

Last night, sitting on the couch Hubbster noticed me ogling a lovely big shiny oven on my laptop screen.

“Don’t go getting any ideas,” he told me. “You won’t have room in the kitchen for a dishwasher and a big oven.”

“Au Contraire,” I answered smiling, flicking back to show him the brochure I’d been studying from my sponsor Fisher and Paykel. “I can get a dishdrawer to fit in any size space!”

Tell me, how would you fare without your dishwasher? How awesome are these dishdrawers?