In reviewing my activities for a week, I frequently find on my list of Things I get to do today “pack the dishwasher.” Saying that evokes scenes from Thelma and Louise or a Leslie Nielson movie, but I’m not a half-crazed, over-zealous woman escaping an unacceptable situation. If that were the case, I would be taking the kitchen sink. Everybody knows the sink is what goes. This is all about how I put things into the dishwasher.
I don’t load the dishwasher. Truth be told, I prefer washing dishes by hand, but my dishwasher is a great appliance: quiet, thorough, water-saving, and just generally very sweet in her disposition. I know her intimately. I installed her. Several years ago now when she came to live with us, I was the one who connected all the little hoses and private parts in behind, plugged her in and adjusted the clearances all around so she could sit comfortably in one position for the-dishwasher-version of forever. Let's just say we’re comfortable with each other.
But a half-century ago, a high school exam reported that spatial perception was one of my strong points. So in addition to helping out in the kitchen, my dishwasher provides me entertainment (I’m very easily amused) with an everyday spatial puzzle. An infinite variety of combinations make up this kitchen story problem. The solution lies in using the right process. While "load” implies just get it all in and close the door, “pack” says loudly and clearly enough even for me to hear, “be attentive, make it tight, use precision, rearrange for better fit, slip it in that empty spot; and there's no need to put in the kitchen sink.”