Chained to the Sink

I came home to the Tardis last Monday after a hard day traversing time and space to find Teapot in a state of the highest excitement!

I thought to myself perhaps M Sarkozy has invited her for a tete a tete un et une on her next trip across the Channel! Or may be Charles of the large ears has announced his renunciation of all things royal so he can help out with my old friend Tim Penrose's hostas. Or it may simply be there is a pair of Cornish Choughs nesting in the apple tree.

None of this.

Teapot has bought a dishwasher.

In fact I cannot remember such a broad grin since we bought our first washing machine just before we moved to Portsmouth all those years ago. Teapot has many qualities as readers of this blog will know but she is not at her best with the dolly tub. She never got through the first round of the annual Rawtenstall mangling competition at school.

What bothers me though is will the knives and forks go the same way as my socks. Where do all the odd socks go? Two enter the washing machine but only one reappears. So help me mes amis. Those of you who have dishwashers. If six knives and forks go in will only five come out?

Use the little grey cells and let me know?