I am not known for my dish washing skills, which I have to admit is somewhat deliberate. When I was a kid, my mother used to turn dishwashing into a military operation. My sister and I had to don thick blue rubber gloves in order to deal with the boiling hot water. And, of course, being sisters, we’d bicker over who would do what.
It was nothing like those scenes in movies — or in the TV drama “Blue Bloods,” for that matter, in which siblings peaceably do the dishes together, one washing, one drying, having a chat.