Mana here. I do not mind at all washing the dishes in my home, but I always gotta wear the gloves since hot water kinda hurts me. I'm kinda afraid of heated surfaces and really hot water. A lot of times when I was younger I would put my hand on the radiator (my really old house was built in the 1950s with those twisty radiators) and burn myself. It was a very traumatic experience, lol.
Dishes
"Stanley, will you be a dear and wash the dishes?" Sharon asked him through the kitchen.
Stan paused the game him and Kyle were playing to answer his mother.
"But mom, we're busy! And Kyle's over."
"Then have him wash them with you, I'm sure it will be fun."
Stan didn't want to say anything else, for fear of angering his mother. She was very nice woman and mother, always concerned about the well being of her family. She loved nothing more than to make her children happy, but she definitely wasn't a Lianne Cartman. He sighed and got up from the cushion he was burrowed in and motioned for Kyle to come and follow him to the kitchen.
His eyes widened in shock when he saw the stack of dirty dishes in the sink.
"Jesus Christ! How could you let this happen, Mom?" He asked in a tone of mock-shock.
"Don't give me that, Stanley," she snapped, "it was your turn to wash the dishes this week anyway. Now hurry, I want to start dinner soon."
He sighed as he turned on the tap to the hottest setting.
"I'll wash and you dry, ok?" He said to Kyle. Kyle nodded.
Stan began with the topmost plate. He took the sponge from the side and scrubbed the plate as hard as he could. Like most people of the OCD variety, he wanted to make sure that the dishes were so clean they sparkled. Besides, eating dinner from a dirty plate was pretty gross.
He held the newly cleaned dish above him, satisfied with the sparkle. He turned to Kyle, who was standing by the cabinet with a towel slung on his arm like a waiter. He figured this way, he could dry them and place them in the cabinet, making work quicker.
Stan didn't feel like calling Kyle over to retrieve the plate, dry it, and walk back to the cabinet so he decided to try something.
"Catch!" He smirked, tossing the plate to Kyle. He was confident Kyle would catch it; during recess, he was always great at catching footballs.
The plate landed in Kyle's hands easily, but to his surprise it was hot. His hands weren't like Stan's; they were very soft and very sensitive which began to hurt when expose to hot things, whereas Stan could withstand holding his hands under water of extreme temperatures for very long. He quickly dropped the plate without thinking beforehand that it would shatter to a million pieces on the floor. He let out a yell of shock.
Stan quickly set down the soap-covered bowl he was working on and turned to Kyle, who was surrounded by thousands of white shards. He took note of Kyle's bare feet.
"Don't move!" He commanded.
"Stanley Marsh!" His mother bellowed, "I saw that!"
"Oh crap," he muttered as he took the dustpan and small broom out of the pantry, "Sorry, Mom!"
"Sorry? You could have murdered poor Kyle! Throwing a dish like that…what's gotten into you?"
"I won't do it again, promise," he said, sweeping away the shards lying in Kyle's vicinity. Sharon sighed something that sounded like "you'd better" and left the kitchen.
"My fault for not catching it," Kyle said, "I'll dry them by the sink if that's better."
Stan nodded and invited Kyle over next to him. He resumed scrubbing the bowl as hard as he could, to erase away the traces of last night's dinner. Once he was sure it was clean, he handed it to Kyle to dry. Kyle dropped the bowl in the sink, which shattered. He really hated how sensitive his skin was to heat.
"Dude!" Stan laughed, taking the spray nozzle and spraying shards down the garbage disposal.
Kyle chuckled uneasily.
"Sorry again," he said.
"You better stop being so clumsy, or I'm gonna start spraying you," Stan threatened.
Kyle laughed at his antics.
"Kahl, I'm seriouslah!" He said in a Cartman tone. This just caused Kyle to laugh harder.
Stan smirked and pressed the spray button on the head, sending a splash of water in Kyle's face.
"Oww," Kyle said, drying himself off quickly with his sleeve, "damn that's hot! Seriously Stan, why the hell do you gotta make the water so hot?"
Stan shrugged.
"It kills the germs better? That's what my mom said at least."
"I'm pretty sure turning it down a bit won't kill you guys," Kyle said reaching for the knob. But before he could turn it to the cool setting, Stan had grabbed his hand.
"Stan!" Kyle gasped; his hands were really hot from the water, so feeling them on his own skin was quite shocking. Stan grabbed Kyle's other hand that was resting on the table, so he had both Kyle's hands in his.
"You're hands are really soft," Stan said, more to himself than to Kyle.
Kyle blushed at this statement.
"Stan," Kyle said, "please, I'm supposed to be drying dishes."
But Stan paid no mind to his pleas. Slowly, he moved Kyle's hands to the hot running water, ignoring the flinch and the gasp.
"Let it run for a few minutes," he said, "you'll get used to it."
Kyle managed to tolerate the scalding water on his hands for half a minute. Then it got to the point where the water was so hot it felt cold on his skin, so he withdrew them immediately.
"Oww," he muttered, while turning the water to the cold setting, letting his hands relax and renew themselves.
Stan chuckled a little and smirked at him.
"Can't take the heat?"
Kyle shook his head vigorously.
"How the hell can you manage?" He asked.
"Once, mom was making French fries and I didn't know the oil in the deep fryer was still hot, so I reached in to grab a fry and the oil burned me," he said.
"Heh," Kyle laughed.
"That's not funny dude, it really hurt," Stan said, "but yeah, that was the most painful thing I've ever had to deal with, so anything else doesn't really hurt me.
"And that's why you can stand hot water?"
"Yeah, pretty much. At least it doesn't leave your hands covered in disgusting boils afterwards," he made a face, recalling his experience with the burning oil.
"Well, not everyone wants to dip their hands in hot oil to get used to hot water," Kyle said, poking Stan's chest teasingly.
"Hey, I didn't do that on purpose!" He said, poking him in return.
Stan went back to his washing, focusing now on another plate. He examined it in his hands and then looked to Kyle, who was nervously awaiting the next hot dish. He smiled slightly, and then reached for the knob on the sink, turning it from hot to a happy medium between cold and hot. He re-washed the dish, so that it would absorb the new temperature. He handed the newly cleaned dish to Kyle, who thankfully did not drop it this time.
"That's much better," he said, drying the plate and setting it aside.
Stan shrugged.
"You shouldn't have to deal with that kind of stuff if you're not ready," he said, "it was lame of me to force it on you and all, so I decided it's the least I could do."
Kyle smiled at his statement, and dried the plate quick no longer worrying himself with getting hurt.
XX
Yeah…don't throw dishes at people. And wear socks at least if a dish happens to shatter at your feet.