Snowy was waxing philosophical about dish washing.
(Which makes sense, that being a contemplative sort of activity.)
And it reminded me of the oldest family story I know.
My mother told it to me , and she said it was told to her by her grandmother, on the Jensen side.
Her grandmother, back in Denmark, had been orphaned in an epidemic.
A number of children had lost their families, and were raised together as orphans by the state (the queen (?)), and married off appropriately to each other.
Her upbringing had been very pious.
One night at dinner her mother was washing the silverware at the table.
Because, apparently, the lady of the house washed it at the table and locked it safely away.
Presumably this kept the spoons from wandering off, or getting tarnished.
But her mother apparently was washing it wrong, concentrating only on the visibly dirty parts.
So her scary little old grandmother piped up:
“In what way have the handles sinned, that they too are not to be made clean?”
I always figured this kind of thing was why my mom just slept in on Sundays.