Ode to a dishwasher

Oh how I miss thee, my wonderful old friend.
The way you would spit clean dishes out in the end.
You would clean and clean without any breaks.
Now how my hands are wrinkled and my back aches.
The happiness I took for granted.
Now in front of the sink is where my feet seem to be planted.
Maybe one day I will see you again.
My husband will hear my complaints until then.
I hope it is sooner rather than later.
My need for you now is much greater.
One day my children will be older.
Then this chore will fall on their shoulders.
So if you would come in the next year or two,
I'll show you just how much I love you.
I'll load you every day with great care.
Think of all the things that we'll share.
Oh how I miss thee, my dishwashing friend,
Come now so I can rest my weary rear end.
    ~Nichole~