A Little Piece Of Chynna

Hello there, well I suppose that I had better introduce myself to you, my name is Chynna. I quite fancy my chances at this game, you know. I was once described as being quite a dish and very elegant. Well, for my age, I'm in very good shape, slightly shallow but circular to be precise. I was made by Johnson Brothers, I know that because they kindly stamped my bottom with their mark. For you, the reader, I'm a really useful thing to have around the house, in the fact that people like you employ my services at least once or maybe twice a everyday of the year.

When I was asked to think about it, (I know what you're thinking) - but that's where you're wrong - everything has feelings, even the household crockery gets upset sometimes. I lost my sister Sauca the other day. She had it in her mind that she might have been able to fly, but she accidentally fell out of the cupboard onto the floor and got smashed to smithereens and was swept up into a black dustbin liner and thrown away away with the rest of the rubbish. We are all still spinning from the shock. I think my brother Ceryal has fallen in love again, as he has been completely bowled over by Alpen - and that's the third box this month.

I'm sorry, I was just pondering, whilst sitting here on the cold shiny steel of the draining board waiting for HIM to come back into the kitchen to bathe me in hot water with lots of nice lemony smelling bubbles and massage me all over with that new dishcloth which is sitting down in the cupboard underneath me just waiting to be unwrapped. This is my favourite time of the day, when I get to soak in the washing-up bowl, I quite enjoy just lazing around amongst millions and millions of bubbles. Then to finish off - well, I like to be lovingly dried off with a big fluffy tea-towel and placed back in the crockery cupboard until my services are required again tomorrow.

I've just got a small problem today, there is something sticky on my upper rim and HE was late for work. Well you can imagine, I've been left on the cold steel of the draining board all day long and whatever it was has stuck fast - I don't think I will enjoy being washed so much this evening. Although it's quite a nice feeling when you've got rid of the day's grease and grime, you can look forward to spending a night with the rest of the crockery in the cupboard.

Oh no, SHE's doing the dishes tonight, and I'm DEFINITELY not looking forward to this experience, one little bit. She's placing me at the bottom of the washing-up bowl, and the Mug is sidling up to me, I don't like Mug very much, he always seems to be filled with the cold coffee dregs. Oh hello, I've been joined by Nifee, Forkee and Spoonee, they don't seem to be very happy either, and although Nifee can be a bit sharp at times he doesn't really mean it.

SHE's just squirted us all with green slime which is very uncomfortable, believe you me, I've been in here more times than you've probably had hot dinners - I know it eventually turns into bubbles, loads of them. Do you know how many bubbles actually come out of a fairy? No, nor me neither!

Now she's running the hot water but it doesn't feel very warm at the moment, but I am sure it will soon heat up. Probably only a lukewarm wash tonight, as she cannot stand the water being too hot!

Ouch, ouch, ouch, what was that? Oh no, she's poking me with THAT spiky scouring implement once again - and bashing my rim against the rest of my companions who also have the pleasure of bathing with me this evening. I am being dipped in and out of the water like a jack in the box. Am I clean yet?

Does SHE really have to scrub at me that hard? You know, it really does hurt when SHE washes the dishes - you know really unkind and uncaring. If SHE carries on like this somebody is going to get hurt, chipped or even broken. I think SHE must be angry today, because I've now been rammed into the plate rack at a rather peculiar angle and I can feel the water running down my back. How on earth does SHE expect me to keep my balance, at this rate I'll be rolling around the kitchen floor if I'm not careful.

Ouch, SHE's just shoved the frying pan against my back, and slammed one of the saucepan lids up against my face. I feel extremely nauseous, well so would you if you lying at this sort of angle.

It wasn't a very pleasant experience today. You know the world seems an awfully funny place looking at it from sideways on. It always seems that when SHE does the dishes we get forgotten about - just stacked up in the plate rack - when we leave the bubbles behind in the washing-up bowl, she just leaves us to dry ourselves. I don't think she knows what a tea-towel is - let alone what it is used for!

Well, hello, HE has just come back into the kitchen. HE's picking up the tea-towel and pulling me out of the plate rack at the same time. Now for a luxurious towel drying experience, my entire circumference has just been completely wrapped up in the tea-towel, oh this is so lovely. Now all the water droplets have been wiped away and my sparkling glazed exterior has been restored once again. I'm now being returned to my dutiful place in amongst the rest of the crockery in the cupboard, ready and waiting for my next exciting adventure.

Well, there you have it, a first hand experience of what is involved in the washing-up as seen through the eyes of Chynna Plate.