It was a Friday evening. I was 10 years old at that time. After supper, seeing my parents were exhausted after a day’s hard work, I volunteered to wash the dishes. Surprised though my parents were, they agreed happily. To tell the truth, it was my first time to wash the dishes on my own.
At first, everything seemed to be going on smoothly. I wasn’t tall enough to reach the sink so I put a chair beside it to stand on. Then I laid all the bowls and plates in the sink, filled it with water and poured in some detergent. Washing the dishes seemed to me a piece of cake. But when I took one bowl out of the water and began to wash it with a cloth, it slipped away from my hold and fell onto the ground, breaking into pieces. I told myself to try again and be more careful, but the same thing happened again. Several minutes later, the kitchen was totally in a mess with the kitchen counter and the floor covered with water and bowl pieces. Sadly, a good idea ended up with a disaster. My parents were standing outside the kitchen and saw everything. Instead of getting angry with me, they just told me that they would give me more chances to practice washing the dishes.