One night out of 365 days...

Dishes. When clean and in the cupboards, dishes seem nice, pretty, unobtrusive. Put food on those same dishes and leave them in the sink for someone else to wash or put in the dishwasher and the word is dark, foreboding, and ominous. At some point, every child does the dishes after dinner -- just not every child at my house (or so HE thinks).

He has the smile of an angel -- when he is sleeping.
He has the humor of a comedian -- when you get it.
He has the work ethics of -- who am I kidding? There are no work ethics.

I get the autism and that lessens the frustration -- but only to a point.

The simplest chore, such as putting the toilet paper in the drawer so the cat does not destroy it, takes 23 minutes. It actually takes 22.5 minutes to convince him that he was the one who left it out and 30 seconds to run to the bathroom, open the drawer and put the toilet paper in there. Then, there is the request to do the dishes.

Grilled cheese and tomato soup. That's what we had for dinner. One plate, one bowl, one spoon -- per person. Oh, and the griddle, knife to spread the butter, spatula to flip the sandwiches and the pot to cook the soup. Four people eating. Four plates, four bowls, four spoons, a griddle, a knife, a spatula, and a pot. 365 days that everyone else in the family has done the dishes except for the one child. What's left to put away? One pot, one griddle, one bowl, two spoons.

The end result? One argument, ten minutes, and these items still left on the counter. I could five times as many dishes during that time but I have to go back and wonder if the principle of the lesson was worth my frustration.