Shit like this is what summer means to me:
Every surface in my house looks something like this. There are empty Ziploc bags in every room, next to piles of crackers in pieces surrounded by scatterings of crumbs. Yesterday I found 26 dirty glasses… before three o’clock. Every summer I give a tutorial on loading the dishwasher. And every year everybody manages to do it once then promptly forget all instructions.
Help.