My Darling Dishwasher: Every Word is True.

By Mary Mendoza

My favorite household appliance is the noble dishwasher. I love dishwashers so much I once owned three of them at a time. One was flamingo pink.

I adore my dishwasher because I don't have to herd it around the house like my vacuum. It doesn't need an oil and lube job, an appointment with the doctor or vet, diaper changes, new shoes, orthodontics or piano lessons. Unlike my high-maintenance stove and fridge my dishwasher is content with just a little damp sponging once in a while. Its gentle hum is more soothing than Sinatra, its mere presence a comfort in the storm of life. My dishwasher is my dearest friend.

I got my first dishwasher when I was a young bride. It was a used portable that groaned and leaked and had ugly black hoses that had to be wrestled onto the kitchen faucet. It snapped off my fingernails, sprayed water and hissed. I was delighted when it finally emitted its last belch and succumbed to old age.

Over the years, I owned a succession of built-ins and portables. One was avocado, another harvest gold; there were a couple of horrible butcher-block types and of course the pink number. I was never dishwasher-less.

When we were house hunting, it wasn't price or location that mattered, but whether the home had an acceptable built-in dishwasher. When the time came to replace it with a new model, I was in heaven. I read Consumer Reports dishwasher best buys until the wee hours of the morning. I surfed TV channels for dishwasher ads. I sent away for brochures. I called numerous family meetings to discuss the purchase. I haunted appliance stores in person and online. All my other home improvement projects, no matter how pressing, were shelved so I could devote myself to the pursuit of the ideal dishwasher.

I finally chose a model with a food-pulverizing feature called the "barracuda." I figured it would come in handy for those times I accidentally leave an entire cheese enchilada on the plate.

Casting caution to the wind, I asked my husband to install the new dishwasher. He got choked up with emotion that I'd trust him with such an important job. He laid out the instruction manual and his tools like a surgeon about to perform a cardiac bypass. I insisted on helping.

"Honey, did you turn off the water and power?" I asked. "Make certain it's straight and level, and don't scratch the floor. And connect those hoses properly. Be sure you hook-up all the wires!" I shouted. He installed the dishwasher in record time, but didn't speak to me again for two weeks.

Not only are dishwashers one of the greatest inventions of modern times, they also make handy storage units. When my husband comes home unexpectedly from work, I toss the Hostess cupcakes I'm eating in the dishwasher and he never suspects a thing.

A word of caution: don't hide dirty laundry in your dishwasher. Shirt buttons get caught on the prongs and later your dishes smell like old socks.

Most people agree that dishwashers are indispensable. My mother, however, is from the opposite camp -- she disdains dishwashers. It was disgust at first sight when my father gave her a cute little portable for Valentine's Day, 1967. She didn't speak to him for two weeks.

Dishwashers have sure come a long way since my first rickety model. Today, they have energy efficient turbo-powered features, electronic brains and giant loading racks, stereophonic sound, a half-dozen wash cycles, and built-in calendars. They're available in every shade of the rainbow and dozens of styles. A dishwasher's only drawback is it can't load and unload itself, but I'm certain that somewhere a team of female appliance scientists is working on that, too.

For a look at some vintage home appliances (including a pink dishwasher) tour the "Classic Automatic Appliance Museum and Library" at http://www.classicappliances.com.

"Design-your-own-dishwasher" at the KitchenAid site: http://www.kitchenaid.com.

Biographical Sketch - Mary Mendoza

Madcap Mary Mendoza, formerly known as Hurricane Mary, lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, son, three cats and 200,000 Sunset magazines.

Madcap's humor columns and feature stories have appeared in publications around the Northwest as well as online. She is the author of The Adventures of Madcap Mary, a collection of humorous stories. Madcap can be reached at mcmendoza@ispiral.com. Visit Madcap's site! http://www.madcapmary.com.