the soft futility of a snow day

and the relentless life of a dishwasher

Camus may have had hill to push rocks up as an exercise in futilty.

But that dude?

He didnt’ know nothing.

He didn’t live in a a house with a broken dishwasher.

Between my wife and I, we’ve spent a total of four hours cleaning dishes.

The children?

Their hands couldn’t bear the discomfort.

Instead?

They played.

It was a snow day.

Things were cancelled.

Some cancelled came from higher up.

The soccer people said no.

But much of this days cancelation came due to parental protest.

I could drive you to work. The roads aren’t bad yet. But home from work after all of this snow? I’m not into that.

So work was cancelled for one of the offspring.

The two of them didn’t sit idle. The shoveled the driveway.

They shoveled the driveway then kept going. They shoveled the sidewalk all the way around the block.

But before you think to yourself about how cute they are, give your head a shake.

First?

They didn’t do it to make the world more accessible or to help old ladies or to save the friggin ozone from snowblowers.

They did it just for the sake of doing it.

And to say that ‘they did it’, I’m leaving out some important information.

The younger one shoveled.

The older one directed.

In fact, my guess is that they went around the block because the older one wanted to see if they could get the younger one to keep shoveling.

The two of them love this game. The older one tells the younger one what to do and the younger one does what the older one says.

So this was not an act of being civic minded.

This was a paring practicing a well rehearsed domination game.

They didn’t do it for you.

They did it for themselves.

They spent the whole day together - playing, being wild - behaving in ways well below their age level.

It was great.

And they’re big.

They eat a lot.

They make a lot of dishes.

The last time I did this many dishes by hand, one of them couldn’t walk.

But it’s funny.

Without a dishwasher, our counter is more clean.

I’m way more satisfied being in the kitchen without seening a bunch of dirty dishes sitting on the counter waiting to go in the dishwasher like a pack of pimpled teen boys waiting to be let into the school.

We went through a lot of dishes today.

The kids shoveled a lot of snow.

The plow will go by and make another mess at the end of the driveway.

The kids will plow through another round of snacks.

The messing and unmessing will continue as it always has.

And Mr. Camus can get stuffed.

Futility is lovely when served with hot coffee and the sounds of a home filled with love.