An Open Letter to My LG Dishwasher

We had something once.

When you first came into my life, I was just getting over the last dishwasher. It had rusty racks that would have cost most of the price of a new dishwasher to replace. It was so loud, you could hear it upstairs in my closet. I had outgrown it and it was time to move on. But to what? I had matured as a homeowner. I was no longer that naive first time homebuyer, satisfied with builder grade appliances. I was ready for more. I needed something more.

I took my time. For while I was ready to move on, my old dishwasher still satisfied my basic needs. I did research. I asked questions. I checked up on you before I decided to commit. But commit I did, and I made you a part of my life.

Oh, how happy we were! You were so new, so eager to please! You had only one need, your insatiable thirst for Jet-Dry. But it was a minor foible, one I was more than willing to put up with so I could actually carry on a conversation in the kitchen while you did your work. You were beautiful, efficient, and oh so quiet. My love for you was strong and I felt safe in the knowledge that you would be part of my life for years to come.

And then, slowly, you began to disappoint. First it was the “drain error” you would signal at 29 minutes remaining. They, you started to do it a 59 minutes as well. And then, finally, you just stopped. Why? Was it something I did? Did I not keep you in Jet-Dry. Did I not rinse completely enough? Why did you forsake me?

I didn’t give up on you. I searched mightily for someone who could fix you, because not just anyone could attend to your special nature. But I did find him, and he came as quick as he could.

The prognosis was grim. You needed a transplant and we weren’t sure how long you would be on the waiting list. After a month – a MONTH – had passed, the surgery was performed and all seemed well. But before the repairman could even leave the neighborhood, you flashed your error code once again. The next day, the repairman returned and all was well. I felt the love again and thought our bond was stronger than ever before. We had weathered this storm and nothing would tear us apart again.

Who could have foreseen last night? You flashed your “drain error” code again at 29 minutes. Why? Why must you torment me this way?

This lack of respect for our relationship worries me. You show no regard for performing your most basic duties. How can I be certain that you aren’t leaking underneath? You are in such a central location, I tremble at the thought of the damage you could inflict upon the hardwoods in my living room. Not to mention all of that drywall.

So here I am. Faced with a difficult choice. Do I pay for another mulit-hundred dollar repair, or do I cut my losses? I bet I could recoup some of my investment on Craigslist. I could turn you into someone else’s problem. You might even end up in, horror of horrors, a rental property. And then I could take advantage of the multi-appliance discount right now at Home Despot. Perhaps even get STAINLESS!

Even so, I’m not sure I’m ready to move on. Spouse is done with you, but I’m so conflicted. I remember the good times. I remember the work I have put in for you. I’m not sure I’m ready to walk away or to admit I made a bad choice.

Oh LG, I wish I could quit you.

Yours (for now),



3 responses to “An Open Letter to My LG Dishwasher

  1. Oh Melissa – it reminds me of a scene from Withnail and I – “the secret is knowing when to let go”

    I had a similar problem with my washing machine – we have had some serious therapy and I hope we can continue, but I am no longer trusting…

  2. Learn to let go. We’ve let go of a fridge (though we maintain a relationship – it stores things that can handle random freezing, but it has to stay in the garage), a washer, and a dryer. Soon we’ll say goodbye to a dishwasher, too, I imagine. It literally rocks itself out of its hole. Still, we were thankful not to have to buy new ones when we bought our house, but instead got them all thrown in with the deal.

    This post reminds me a tiny bit of the ads where people are firing/breaking up with their brooms in favor of (I think) a Swiffer. Fun read.

  3. It’s painful to let go, but in the end, it hurts less. It’s like breaking up before getting married. It’s even harder to get divorced than break up. It’s harder to get rid of a machine that you’ve had fixed several times and in it you’ve invested more energy. I tried it with my washer, but after two 300 dollar repairs, I finally had to get a new one anyway, and the new one is nicer. Just think of the type of washer I could have had if I’d spent the $600 dollars on it (that I spent on repairs) on the price of the washer plus what I paid! I’d only have to do three loads/week! Just say good ridance to the bad boyfriend. . .

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