Dirty-Clean Dishwasher Sign

You know how you always wonder if the dishes in the dishwasher are still dirty or already clean? Our solution was to stick the corresponding post-it note on the door of the dishwasher. We had a "Clean Na" (clean already) and a "Dirty Pa" (still dirty) post-it that stays on the bulletin board until needed.

I got tired of managing and replacing the post-it note that sometimes fell on the floor (if not behind the water cooler), and got all crumpled, nasty, and unsticky. I thought I'd get creative and make a decent and real sign.

Because the front panel of our dishwasher from the 80s is plastic, a magnetic sign was out of the question. I had to design one that uses velcro as a fastener. And it has to be reversible and sturdy enough to withstand the constant reversing action. One side would be "CLEAN" and the other side "DIRTY".

I headed for my polymer clay workstation. Bluish grayish colors would work for the Dirty side, and bright whitish colors would be good for the Clean side. I cut an aluminum plate to serve as the backing and covered it with a thin layer of neutral brownish beige blended clay.
 

The letters had to be large and easy to read (and easy to make), so, arial-looking font was my default. Gray for Dirty, white for Clean.

I baked the letters and the backing first.

To make the sign more interesting, I designed sad and happy faces, and borders. I baked those elements next. Then I super-glued all the elements onto the backing, including the corner posts where the velcro-loop pieces would be attached.

And there it is. A reversible sign that snaps onto the velcro-hook pads I attached to the dishwasher. I threw away the post-it notes for the last time.

Dishwasher lesson

I was born and raised in a tropical island. I didn't grow up operating dishwashers much like Paris Hilton didn't grow up pitching hay.

We didn't have dishwashing appliances because hand dishwashing is considered an integral part of tropical island life. And also because dishwashers require hot and cold water, an indoor engineering application that we had absolutely no use for in our lovely, steamy equatorial climate. We take refreshing cold showers 24/7.

So, when I came to America, this dishwashing contraption was as alien to me as a snow plow. But hey, I gotta learn to use it, so I used it. How hard was that -- turn knobs to settings that said Hot Start, Heavy Wash, Normal Wash, Short Wash, Rinse Only, Drying, and Stop. Simple.

I loaded the dirty dishes. Of course, dishwashing needs detergent, right? Hmm. I have detergent. There's a cup in the dishwasher door that's obviously for the detergent, so I pour it in there, close the cup, shut the door, and engage the lock. Turn knob to... uhm... Normal Wash should be good.

And the machine goes whirrrr. Okay. I can get used to this world of machines doing housework.

A few minutes later, my guardian angel whispers in my ear. "Check the dishwasher."

I go into the kitchen and notice bubbles streaming out from under the dishwasher door, and a white foam starting to crawl across the floor. Argh!

Stop! Stop! Where's the stop button?! Unplug! How do you unplug this thing? Panic!

I unlock the door and swing it open. Woah! More bubbles! Everything covered with bubbles! More bubbly water flowing onto the floor! Mop! Get the mop! Get the rags! Panic!

When I finally pulled myself together, I called the apartment maintenance.

"Our dishwasher is busted! The drain must be clogged. Could you send someone to our apartment?"

I had transferred the dishes to the sink and handwashed everything when the maintenance guy arrived.

As soon as he saw the bubbles, he looked at me and asked, "Ma'm, what detergent did you use?"

I paused, and realized I had obviously used the wrong detergent. How was I to know? Thinking quickly on my feet, I said, "Uhm, I didn't load the washer myself. Why?"

"Well, your husband might have used -that- detergent over there." He pointed at the dishwashing handsoap pump that was sitting next to the sink.

"Oh, really? Why, what's wrong with that detergent?" Busted.

"It's not for dishwashers, Ma'm. They produce too much bubbles, so they will flood the dishwashing machine."

"Ye, my husband might have used that detergent by mistake." I was certain he knew it was me.

He soaked up all the soapy bubbly water from around and inside the machine and wrung the rag over the sink. After he had wiped off all the bubbles, he ran the machine for a bit until it rinsed out whatever soapy water lurked in the plumbing.

When the man of the house got home, I told him about the incident and warned him that if the maintenance guy ever confronts him about using the wrong detergent in the dishwasher, to say, "Yes, my mistake!"

Luckily, no confrontation ever took place. And we've long moved out of that apartment complex. Since then, we... er... I... have always used the right detergent in our dishwashing machine.