About a year ago, I blew invested $9 on a giant pizza wheel that looked stunning in store; so sharp and shiny it makes that little *shink!* noise when you remove the cover – amazing.
Here’s the thing about the pizza cutter: It rusts when we put it in the dishwasher, and even though I swear it said “dishwasher safe” on the original package, we hand wash it per Andrew’s suggestion; and he’s right – letting it air dry next to the sink certainly prevents more rust a million times better than letting it heat dry with 100% humidity in an enclosed box.
Here’s the thing about me: I don’t know what it is about hand washing, but in my mind, it’s the most inconvenient inconvenience in the kitchen. I’d rather do a quick rinse and spend 20 minutes rearranging the dishwasher to fit the last sippy cup than spend 30 seconds scrubbing. It’s a psychological thing. So yes, even though the pizza wheel rusts in the dishwasher, I’d rather toss it in. And every single time I see it there, dirty and pizza-crusted on the counter, I nearly do. Whatever, I’ll be honest – I throw it in. BUT with a little heaved sigh and roll of my eyes, I promptly take it out, shaking my head at myself while glopping soap on to scrub it and set it aside in the dry rack. Andrew asks that we hand wash it, so I will.
Here’s the thing about this post: It’s not about the silly pizza wheel. That’d be ridiculous. This is about practicing charity and respect in little ways now so I can do so in big ways later. I hand wash the pizza wheel because it’s minorly important to my husband, who sensibly doesn’t want to blow invest $9 more dollars on a new utensil. Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that I smile/disregard what he asks of me vs. proceeding with his request: the first entertains selfishness and laziness, albeit on a really small scale; the second is conducive to team-building unity and fosters respect. If I can’t honor the request from my husband and set aside my own preferences in this very small matter, then I’ll be a lost cause when one of more gravity and significance inevitably comes from him later. And suppose he were to follow my example and disregard little things I want as well – in time, this would build enough irritation to spur resentment. The ability to love often demands a denial of self in order to serve another. And if this is done habitually, it develops into the virtue of charity, which is good for everybody and glorifies God (which is what we’re supposed to do in life, right??).
For the sake of maintaining a loving and respectful marriage and family, we have to rehearse this kind of love and devotion in little ways to secure it as unwavering for the rest of our lives.

This cracked me up (and is well timed for my anniversary). Just this weekend I glared at my husbands good knives and debated whether putting them in the dishwasher “just this once” would really hurt them… But I pulled myself together and soaped them up by hand. -Staci
Wow, you have a husband with good knives? Does that mean he actually cooks with them? Yes? If so, a little hand wash of the knives would be well worth it in my book!
HA! I love “just this once” – I’m a big fan of that phrase 🙂 Happy Anniversary to you and Nathaniel, Staci!! I hope it’s wonderful! (as wonderful?)
I’m not alone in the universe!!! I, too, will spend minutes rearranging the dishwasher to fit every last morsel in, while my husband says, ” Just leave it out…I’ll wash it.” God bless him!! I think they/we are all wired the same, Katie.
Me too. I’ll spend way more time rearranging the dishwasher than it would take me to simply hand wash a dish. Yep.
Seems like such a minor thing, but you’ve hit upon a jewel, Katie. Dying to self…the occasions for it are all around us. The more we die to ourselves, the more God moves into us…let’s see, do I want more of me or more of Him? Those are the choices that make saints.
I think it was St. Therese who said that even picking a pin up off the floor with love can save a soul.