…my mother would call out to my brother and I whenever we were making a lot of noise, which was most of the time.
Every night after supper we did the dishes together, me with my hands submersed in warm soapy water nearly up to my armpits, he working a drenched dish towel over pale green Melmac plates, while we discussed things I can no longer recall. Thankfully those plates were indestructible, since they often crashed to the floor. But that wasn’t the point. If anything were to be broken we knew to save the pieces, though we had no idea what for.