The unexpected beauty of washing dishes

Unexpected is the right word. For once again in this climatic paradise we call Ottawa, we were treated to snow flurries today. That’s right. Snow. The white stuff that falls out of the sky when temperatures remain about zero. Snow.
 
It was therefore a day for chores and movie watching. Or, in our case, bringing to a conclusion Michael Palin’s excellent Pole to Pole travelogue. We are in the process of watching them all, and it has had the predictable effect of Ottawacker Jr. telling us the age at which he is going to leave home to travel the world.
 
As the parent of a sole seven-year-old, it wasn’t the result I was expecting. I was thinking of broadening horizons, exposure to different cultures, discovering the beauty of a perfectly crafted story.
 
But no, he is waiting until the cats have died and then he is off.
Ultimately, I imagine, we will just have to keep rescuing cats until he is around 17 and then wait it out.
 
I was planning the cat rescue strategy having been voluntold to do the dishes post-dinner. When out came the sun. And a beautiful rainbow appeared in the sink as I was finishing up.
 
And then I got my own rainbow thought: maybe he will take me with him.