The Spoon

"Write from the point of view of a spoon inside the dishwasher."


I have ice cream on me. I'm dropped into the basket in the dishwasher. Head up. I have to share my slot in the basket with a fork, knife and another spoon. I wish they would scoot over. I need more room.
The door shuts, man it is dark in here. Good thing I have night vision.
I jump, the door opens. More item are put inside. I look up and see a purple plastic cup, a few coffee cups and one lone lid.
The door is flung shut. I here the latch catch. Its finally time. I shall be clean in no time.
The water comes. Filling up the inside. Water is all around me. The water in here is warm. Its the perfect temperature. I so enjoy the feel of the warm water as it washes over me.
I hear a pop. That means the detergent dispenser has opened. It always know just when to open up. I love the lemon scent of the soap.
The fork falls into me. I repeat once again, scoot over please.
Here comes the rough moment. We all hold on tight while the water shoots from the jets, getting us all clean. I'm now clean.
All the dirty water starts to drain. I look up, yep the lone lid is still there. Sometimes those silly little lids get thrown into the bottom of the dish machine. They should really learn how to hold on tighter.
More water now starts to spray. It rinses me off.
The water once again drains.
My favorite part is coming up. The air inside of here starts to heat up. Its so warm. I'm now all dry and clean, but the best part of all is that I shine once again.