Work Text:
Dende usually didn’t mind doing the dishes. He found it a soothing activity at the end of a long day of watching over Earth to stand in front of a sink full of warm water and gently scrub food debris from plates.
This, however, was ridiculous. He grimaced as he looked at the pile of dishes, the teetering pile of porcelain almost reaching the high domed ceiling.
“Thanks for inviting us for dinner, Dende,” Gohan said, grinning as he deposited another armful of plates on the counter.
He should have known better than to volunteer when the Son family visited.