Not The Favorite

I'm sorry I decided to do the dishes tonight. To wash the pot that you used last week to make chicken soup. I appreciate that you thought to soak the pot. However, I'm sorry that I now know what that stagnant "water" smells like after a week of sitting on the stove. In 30 degree weather. A smell that I akin to what it may smell like when one day the cat disappears, only to become a horrible odour we find coming from beneath the bed days later.

I'm sorry that I can't get the smell off my hands. And I'm really sorry to find that mold growing on the burner cover when I lifted up the pot. I think it ate some of the picture away.

I'm sorry that I hurt your feelings when I told you that if you ever did that again, I would leave you. I'm sorry that the thought crossed my mind to shove the nasty dishcloth in your face when you told me that I should have just left it there for you to clean. In your own due time, I'm sure.

I'm sorry you got annoyed when I gave you attitude about the pot. I'm sorry you left without saying goodbye. And more importantly, I'm sorry about the unfortunate place I rubbed that nasty dishcloth when tomorrow at work you try to figure out where that gross smell is coming from.

Labels: Jon