Tidewoven Inc | The Dishwasher Incident: The Nameplate
Daniel was in his home office grading papers when Micah appeared in the doorway with the posture of a man trying very hard not to smirk. Daniel looked up. “What?”
Micah stepped in, hands behind his back like a six-year-old hiding contraband. “Got you something.”
Daniel frowned. “Why?”
“Because,” Micah said, “you deserve it.”
That was suspicious enough to make Daniel set down his pen. Micah placed something on the desk with ceremony. A small, rectangular, brushed-metal nameplate. Black lettering. Professional. Polished.
DANIEL REYES
DISHWASHER LOADING SAVANT
Daniel stared at it. Micah waited. Silence. Daniel blinked once. “…Savant?”
“Yeah,” Micah said, leaning back on his heels. “I asked the lady at the engraving place if that was too much. She said no.”
“You told a stranger about our dishwasher argument?”
“Absolutely.”
Daniel picked up the nameplate as if it were radioactive. “Dishwasher. Loading. Savant.”
Micah nodded. “It’s accurate.”
Daniel set it down. Looked at it. Looked at Micah. “You’re mocking me.”
“No,” Micah said. “I am honoring you. With office decor.”
Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose. “You engraved mockery.”
Micah shrugged. “I engraved the truth.”
Daniel glared at him with his trademark sharp, narrow, teacher glare, but there was a smile creeping in at the edges. “I can’t put this on my desk.”
“You already have,” Micah said, gesturing to where it sat perfectly centered in front of Daniel’s keyboard. Daniel moved it to the side. Micah moved it back. Daniel shoved it left. Micah shoved it right.
Daniel let out a frustrated laugh. “Micah.”
“It belongs there.”
“It does not.”
“Yes,” Micah said, dead serious now, “it does. You are the dishwasher loading savant. It’s your legacy.”
Daniel stared at him. Micah stared back. Then Daniel sighed long-sufferingly and placed the nameplate under his monitor. Centered. Perfectly straight. Micah’s face split into a grin so genuine it almost hurt. Daniel muttered, “I hate you.”
Micah clapped him on the shoulder. “No, you don’t.”
Daniel rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”
Micah walked out of the office humming. Daniel looked at the nameplate again… and smiled. Small. Soft. Defeated. But secretly thrilled to see Micah’s spirit peek out under the weight he was carrying alone.
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