The Dishes

So my husband and I used to have kind of an agreement.  For some reason I am starting to think that this agreement has been one sided in my favor. Who am I kidding.  Of course it is one sided in my favor.  At grandma's house we don't have a disposal and the dishwasher doesn't work so we have to do dishes by hand.  I HATE doing the dishes!!  I have no problem rinsing off dishes and putting them in the dishwasher, but  letting them soak and having to touch wet food gives me major heebie jeebies.  So I realize I am 32 years old and am extremely embarrassed to admit, but once again I am going to let my immaturity show.  Our so called agreement was that I didn't have to do the dishes so that Joe didn't have to watch me gag.  Obviously this kind of agreement is not one that could or should last forever.  Tonight I did the dishes, and will continue to do the dishes for many nights to come.  Why the shift?  I wish I could say it was because I realized I was being completely selfish and a little cruel to my husband. But, no, that's not it.  I also wish I could say it was for the greater good and I just wanted to help out more around the house.  But, no, that's not it either.   I love and hate that some of the greatest lessons we get to learn in life are through the reflection of agitation that you project onto others.  I have been disgusted with my self this week because I have been annoyed over trivial things.  My grandma drinks a coke and eats a candy bar before she goes to bed, and then tells me she can't sleep, but in the same breath says that caffeine doesn't effect her.  She also loves fried food, and I dare someone to try and convince her that it is not healthy.  Ridiculous to get bothered by, Right?  The very things that were upsetting me are included in the reasons why I love her so much.  Well, I think I was getting irritated because I thought she should know better.  Gross, I know. She is an eighty year old woman,  she is not going to change, and who am I to pass judgement over a woman who has loved me unconditionally my whole life.  So I realized the reason it was bothering me so badly was I hadn't addressed some of my own "you should know better" issues.  One of which included, you guessed it, doing the dishes.   My hands may look like a prune and I will always hate it, but who doesn't.  I am not going to bed guilty though.  I am also no longer agitated.