Doin' The Dishes

My squadron was having a party out in the desert hot springs near the Navy base we were stationed at in southern California. We had several campfires going, and I walked over to a smaller fire and joined two of my married buddies. I arrived in mid-conversation.

"I do the dishes about once a week," said Irv. Dave mentioned that he too, did the dishes about once a week, sometimes twice. Having moved into an apartment a few months before, I felt compelled to join the discussion.

"I do the dishes everyday."

Dave and Irv were amazed, and asked me to repeat myself, in case they misheard.

"Yeah, I do the dishes everyday."

There was real admiration on their faces until I mentioned that I did most of the cooking, too. Sort of like when you were a kid and you realized that Superman didn't exist after all. Then it hit me. We were having two different conversations.

"Oh. Ya'll meant Doin' The Dishes. Hell, I haven't even had a girlfriend for at least a year."

The three of us stared quietly into the fire, two married guys and an bachelor, each of us probably thinking what an idiot I was.