Tidewoven Inc | The Dishwasher Incident: Micah’s Water Lecture (a.k.a. The Redemption of Dishgate)
Dinner was done.
Dishes were loaded, meticulously, reverently, southwest-facing-ly, under Nora’s watchful gaze. The household was finally calm. Which is why it startled everyone when Micah cleared his throat, stood at the head of the table, and said: “Okay. I need… five minutes.”
Daniel looked up from wiping the counter. “For what?”
Nora folded her arms. “Is this a dishwasher appeal? Because the courts are closed.”
“No,” Micah said, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is… different.”
Elise put a hand on her hip. “Micah. You don’t have to do a TED Talk to regain your honor. We love you.”
He shook his head. “It’s not about honor. It’s about… context.”
Lucy perked up, eyes huge. “Is this about dragons?”
“No,” Micah said gently. “It’s about water.”
Daniel blinked. “Water.”
Micah nodded once. “Yeah.”
Everyone quieted.
Micah breathed in, anchored himself, and began. Not dramatic, not performative, just steady and real.
“Water is the most adaptable thing on earth. It doesn’t fight obstacles,” he said, leaning his hands on the back of a chair. “It moves around them. Slipstreams. Finds another path. If you block it one way, it goes another. If you narrow it, it speeds up. If you widen it, it slows down.” He looked at Nora. “That’s why bowl angles matter.”
She sat straighter, glowing.
He looked at Daniel. “That’s why plate density changes spray patterns.” Daniel made a quiet, victorious sound.
Then he sighed and looked down at the table. “But water isn’t just adaptable. It’s dangerous. It erodes cliffs. It collapses structures. It drowns people because… because it doesn’t care who you are. It keeps moving. Whether you can swim or not.”
Elise’s breath caught.
Lucy stopped swinging her legs.
Nora uncrossed her arms, leaning in.
Micah continued softly: “And the thing about water is… you can’t fight it by brute force. You can’t punch it into submission. You can’t out-stubborn it. You have to work with the current, not against it. You have to understand it. Respect it. Give it somewhere to go.”
He finally looked up. Straight at Elise. “At home, we’re supposed to be like that. Flow around each other. Adapt. Leave room. Handle pressure without cracking. And yeah, sometimes we spill. Sometimes we overflow. Sometimes we flood.” His voice went quiet, but sure. “And sometimes we need other people to help redirect the current before it knocks everything down.”
Nobody moved. Nobody breathed. Even the dishwasher, mid-cycle, seemed to hum quieter.
He finished, “So if I got… overwhelmed the other day. Or snapped. Or stomped.” A tiny smirk. “I wasn’t mad at anyone. I was just… full. I’ve been full for weeks.” He swallowed. “I’m trying to find a path through it. I’m working on it.”
Lucy slid off her chair and wrapped her arms around his waist without asking.
Nora stepped forward next, “Uncle Micah,” she said, small but firm, “you can spill here. We’re built for it.”
Daniel nodded once, like he was sealing an oath. Elise’s eyes dampened.
Micah huffed a quiet laugh into Lucy’s hair, shoulders dropping in relief. “Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.”
Elise wiped her cheek, stepped closer, and said the only thing that mattered: “Welcome home.”
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Well done, Micah, for opening up and letting the family in, even a little.