Friday, June 23, 2017
28th January 2015
There was nothing wrong with my dishwasher. Pickle has simply failed to clean his plates before putting them in the sink and so had clogged a tube under the sink. It cost me ninety five dollars to learn that and a hundred and seventy two to get my dryer to stop chirping.
Pickle did not pay for any of that, but then I guess not hearing him complain about it was enough to keep me quiet. I tell the man over and over not to put food in the sink, scrape your plate over the trash, don’t let food dry till it’s hard, but he never listens.
Normal people, Cassi, clean when cleaning is needed, wash dishes after they use them, and can fold their own towels. I was not brought up as a normal person so these things are hard for me. However, Pickle has all the time he needs to do whatever he wishes and so could do a fair job at cleaning these things.
There are times in my life that I feel as if I’m not human. As if I’m an experiment in trying to be human. It is as if I am the retype of some other manufacture’s trying to make a copy of someone else’s product. This is me, the Neal 3, third experiment where we tried to figure out what makes a human work.
Now I think I know why my mother wanted four children. She was thinking that number four would have been the one she got right.
Keep to the right, little sister,
Richard Leland Neal