Good evening fellow wonderers:
Some forty something odd years ago I said to my mother, “It says dishwasher.” She was the proud owner of “The Carousel”. It was a countertop dishwasher that connected to the kitchen faucet. She lived to show it off to out of town guest and the women of her circle. My mother was the sole owner in our five block radius. But by the time you had to scrap the dishes, wash and rinse the dishes just to put them in “The Carousel” the dishes could have been done. I mean washed, dried and put away. But when you got it loaded and put the top on and turned on the hot water, you thought you had something special. You could hear the water going around and around with hot steam billowing around it. I bet my mother felt like the queen of the neighborhood. I felt like it was a waste of time and hot water because if you didn’t get your bath before it started, you had to wait for the hot water to build up.
Now, as I watch my husband scraping and rinsing the dishes with soapy water just to load them in the dishwasher I just want to yell, “That stainless steel contraption under the counter says – DISHWASHER!”