That is what I said (outloud) when I opened my new dishwasher this morning. My dishes have never been so clean. And the premier load even included un-rinsed pans and peanutbutter knives. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm still no fan of doing dishes. But having a major appliance that does the gross stuff for me helps me dread it a little less.
There's a lot more I could tell to this story: how getting rid of the old dishwasher is symbolic of finally ridding ourselves of the mess left behind by the previous owner of our home, how we're finally over it, how we'll live in peace and harmony forever more. And how, if we ever happen to run into said previous owner we'll be pleasant and cheerful and enthusiastic about all the wonderful work he did on our home without mentioning the windows painted shut, the vermin, the haphazard plumbing and wiring, or the piles of (as it turns out) dog crap. But no one would believe the rest of that story anyway. So I'll just leave it at this: I love my new (black) dishwasher. Thank you Michael. And thank you Lowes.