As a young teen, I often helped Mom do the dishes. Ivory Flakes, wash cloth and thin white towel.
She rejected — repeatedly — using liquid detergent, sponge and air-drying. “That’s not the way we wash dishes.”
I finally asked: “You’re telling me that there’s only one way to do the dishes. Any other way is wrong?”
“That’s correct.”
I kept pressing the issue: “Is it that way with everything in life? One way. Anything else is wrong?”
“That’s correct.”
Then Dad and I washed dishes. He used liquid detergent and sponge.
“Let them air-dry,” he said. “It’s the only way…”
She rejected — repeatedly — using liquid detergent, sponge and air-drying. “That’s not the way we wash dishes.”
I finally asked: “You’re telling me that there’s only one way to do the dishes. Any other way is wrong?”
“That’s correct.”
I kept pressing the issue: “Is it that way with everything in life? One way. Anything else is wrong?”
“That’s correct.”
Then Dad and I washed dishes. He used liquid detergent and sponge.
“Let them air-dry,” he said. “It’s the only way…”
