Mind over matter – Shorelines

It’s my job to wash the dishes
It isn’t very nice
My sister has to scrape the plates

And always leaves some rice.

I ran the water very hot

And swished the soap around

But when I dipped my hand inside

This is what I found:

Some lumps of fat and melted cheese

Some lentils, brown and dried

A piece of fish with bone and skin

And onions, deeply fried

My fingers squelched in all the mess

I scooped out handfuls of it

My sister laughed and walked away

While I tried not to vomit.

There’s no escaping from this task

No point in feeling sick

There is no room for squeamishness

Best be brave and quick

I’ve decided to rely on science

To cope with all things icky

I remind myself that polymers

Plus ions make sauces sticky

So when I feel some slimy stuff

I think about viscosity

Forget goo – it’s a non-Newtonian fluid

I should be filled with curiosity.

Whatever gunk I have to touch

Be it scrambled egg or batter

It’s all made up of molecules

And I can’t be anti-matter

Because that wouldn’t make sense.

‘Scrape the plates yourself!’ yells my sister

‘Wear rubber gloves’ says mum

‘Get a dishwasher’, I say under my breath

Dad says: ‘We have one, son!’

2017

Photo description: Partly burned lentils in the bottom of an aluminium pot