Ode to Dishwasher

It was a number of years ago, when our dishwasher started to show first signs of age. First, it was innocent, even funny. Like a ketchup-smeared plate that it somehow "forgot" to wash - one among all other perfectly cleaned peers. Then it got more serious: rheumatic creaky rails, bad odor, undigested cleaning materials, and blown fuses.

Still, we were content to put up with it like with an old dog. But then, it started to have "accidents". Every morning, we would wake up to a pool of fetid water on the floor. The usual remedies didn't help. One day, after hours of cursing, Dad fished out of the drain pipe a pea-size ball bearing that was clogging it. The dishwasher started to lose its marbles, disintegrating on the inside. Keep reminding ourselves that it's just a stupid machine, we decided that it was time to go.

A few days later, when the delivery guy was taking it out, stripped naked, in a full view of its replacement - a gleaming smug Bosch, the dishwasher did what any frighten animal would do - it thoroughly peed all over the floor. We didn't know it could hold that much water...

But it wasn't the end of it. On the second day, in the middle of the night, Bosch emitted a series of panicked beeps and shut itself down, tub full of water. Not again, thought Dad, not again... After some serious swearing, Dad emerged from the bowels of plumbing in the basement with the culprit in his hand. This time, it was a cherry pit. Funny thing though - we didn't have cherries for months. We pondered it a minute and thought of the old guy smiling at us from the dishwasher heaven.