Nurg-Urk the Great God of Dishracks
Friday, January 13th, 2006
After much research and observation, I have decided that my wife has found a new religion. The religion is that of the Holy Dishrack. Some people, in fact most of the population of North America, worship at the Shrine of the Automatic Dishwasher. I myself have been a lifelong believer in the cult of the Automatic Dishwasher. My wife however, is not.
We have a system that works pretty well in our house. Generally, whoever cooks does not have to do dishes or cleanup. That is left to the person who did not cook. Every household has it’s system and that happens to be ours. It works pretty well. Since the maternity leave for Pussycat ended I’ve been doing the majority of the cooking. Sometimes when she comes home, she’s either too tired to cook or too involved in the baby to have time, so I do it. I enjoy it. I’m not good at cleaning or laundry, but I do cook well.
So … when I cook, Pussycat does the dishes. As is normally the case, the first thing that has to been done in order to fill the dishwasher is to empty the dishwasher. For most people emptying the dishwasher is a simple affair that involves taking dishes from point A (the dishwasher) and placing them at points B,C, and D (the cabinets.) It’s an easy job for us as our kitchen is not large. Alas, things do not work that way in our household.
Tom Cruise has Scientology, Richard Gere has Buddhism but Pussycat has the cult of the Dishrack. She is without a doubt a most fervent believer. How do I know this? Why am I so sure that she believes with such faith and fervor? As with all religions, you can gauge the worshiper’s commitment by their sacrifices. Catholics sacrifice fish for lent. Baptists sacrifice dancing. Pentecostals give up any semblance of fasion sense and Pussycat, dear faithful Pussycat, locked in her dogma … sacrifices dishes.
Yes, dishes. As with 99.9% of the population, when she cleans the kitchen after a meal, she empties the dishwasher of any clean dishes. Unlike 99.9% of the population, only two thirds of the dishes actually make it back into their respective cabinets. The other third ends up in the dishrack above the dishwasher. The dishrack we have no reason to own because … tada! We. Own. A. Dishwasher. Why own a dishrack when everything comes out already clean, dry and waiting … nay, yearning to be placed back into their comfy cabinet homes!
Having seen this amazing phenomena occur nearly every day for the past 3 years, I’m now convinced that she leaves the dishes in the dishrack as a sacrifice for the great dishrack god … whom for lack of further knowledge of his cult, I have named Nurg-Urk the Great God of Dishracks.
Fortunately, Nurg-urk is a kind god. He does not require much from his followers. Only that they sacrifice certain cutlery items to him on a daily basis. He craves the sight of mismatched tupperware sets lifting their gaping mouths to him in supplication. His joy is profound when he gazes down and sees not one, not two … but three (THREE!) pans lying before him, clean and ready to be used. His most exquisite blessings are given to those (like Pussycat) who bring him the holiest gift of all … the plastic strainer! Yes, when he sees the plastic strainer sitting there week after week after week pointing to his realm in the space above the cabinets, his rapture is without limit! Nurg-Urk the Great knows the sacrifice that accompanied this sweet gift. He knows that when that particular gift is offered, the supplicant is truly a great believer in his cult of the Dishrack. He alone knows that the cabinet where the strainer normally goes is but a mere 8 inches above the dishrack. He alone knows that in her quest for perfection in Nurg-Urk’s name, the Pussycat, while emptying the dishwasher, instead of using an extra 2 seconds to put the strainer in the cabinet, decided yet again to give the ultimate gift to Nurg-urk and placed the strainer exactly between the dishwasher and the particular cabinet the strainer normally calls home.
Nurg-Urk knows many things. The proper way to poach an egg. How to remove wine stains from cloth napkins. It is rumoured he even knows how make a souffle that DOES NOT COLLAPSE until touched with a fork! Yes, Nurg-Urk knows many things, but above all, he knows that when Pussycat does the dishes, his altar will be full. Week after week after week.
Yes, he knows.
All hail, Nurg-Urk the great!