Our last dishwasher never really died as much as it got retired.
It started its life out with enthusiasm!
Like most appliances do.
It washed bottles with caked on baby formula, and cookie cutters encrusted with play-doh.
Never complaining, just doing its job.
As time went on, it was less and less of a high performance machine.
Pretty soon, the dishes did not get clean.
The dishwasher was tired, I suppose.
The dishwasher would pulverize the food particles into a fine food mist, and re-distribute them all over the dishes.
Then, it would bake that concoction onto the dishes at a high temperature.
The dishes almost always had to be scraped off, and then re-run.
Of course, here is where the argument comes in:
Sam thinks that dishes practically need to be hand-washed before they are loaded into the dishwasher.
I think you should be able to just load 'em up.
What good is an appliance that can't do its advertised service?
It is a DISH. WASHER.
Not a you-hand-wash-and-I-will-finish-up-ER.
We replaced the dishwasher with a pretty Kitchenaid one. It cost more, but supposedly you can put a whole cake in it, and it will miraculously wash the cake, platter, and surrounding dishes. Have you seen the commercial?
So, it has been running like a champ.
The first load we went through was exciting.
We both sort-of waited around to see the dishes come out.
I pretended to do work on the computer, and he puttered around the house.
Every twenty minutes or so, we would pass in the kitchen, inventing things to get, so we could see that first batch.
Neither one of us wanted to admit the embarrassing stupidness of wanting to see dishes post-cleanse.
The dishwasher finally indicated that it was in the "cool down" mode.
Both of us were there.
Our plates! How they shimmered!
Our silverware! Spotless!
And our drinking glasses were actually squeaky! For real. They squeaked!
Time has moved on.
The dishwasher is still doing okay.
Occasionally it leaves a stray Spaghetti-O baked onto a bowl.
Or a barely recognizable mushroom.
Sometimes a paper-thin fan of dried spinach embellishing a drinking glass.
And here is where the other argument ensues:
I feel like the dishes are sanitized and clean.
I will flick off that rogue Spaghetti-O and put the dish in the cupboard.
Sam, on the other hand, will put it back in the dishwasher to be re-run.
Makes you want to eat at my house, eh?
Only if Sam has been on dish duty.
Hey, no one has gotten sick. Yet.