Erin and the dishwasher

Over the last 3 years, Erin and I have been the complete roommate package -- great friends and occassionally, great foes, but our chemistry has been impeccable. When the split time comes, I might opt for a studio as handling roommates again will be tough. She's thinking on the same lines.

One of her funniest habits was wobbling stuff around the dishwasher to ensure it was loaded perfectly. The legend deserved a poem, so I wrote this on a bus one day. I kept looking out of the window in an attempt to spot a rare Parsi woman, but failed, so I needed something else to do. Read on!

Erin and the dishwasher

Since Erin was a teen
She was obsessed with the dishwashing machine
Spic-and-span, neat and clean
Loading it perfectly was in her gene.

To design school Erin went to learn
And boy, how it made her life turn
In study, midnight oil she started to burn
Missing her, dishwasher started to yearn

Loading dishwasher became A's job
At which he was a very big slob
Dishes were placed not in a mob
And dishwasher's patience A would rob.

In this dishwasher and A bout
Dishwasher began to loudly shout
"Erin, please save me from A's rout,
For this moron I can't stand, no doubt."

And hear this desperate plea did Erin indeed
For help her beloved dishwasher did need
She loaded dishwasher with lots of greed
And from bad A was dishwasher freed.

(some blogs have real pro poetry, so apologies for the poor quality. It's purely meant for humor.)