Wars are fought all over the planet, over borders, resources and differences in ideology. Most of us don’t live in an active war zone. Or do we?

If you take a deep dive inside any given household, you are likely to find hostilities waging right alongside your morning coffee and the kitchen sink.

Let’s start in the kitchen: ground zero for hand-to-hand combat, especially involving the dishwasher.

This appliance is a complex beast, worthy of numerous styles of domestic combat. The first begins with pre-loading stage of engagement.

To rinse, or not to rinse? That is the question.

Here we have two completely different tactical doctrines. One group washes the dishes before they go into the dishwasher. The other does not.

These opposing forces are clearly incompatible, yet they routinely find themselves married to one another.

The non-rinser leaves dried-on spaghetti sauce and coagulated fried egg yolk on the plates and expects the dishwasher to do the dirty work. “Why’d be get a dishwasher if it can’t even wash the dishes?”

The avid rinser doesn’t see it this way. They thoroughly remove all visible food remnants from plates and silverware prior to loading. “The purpose of the dishwasher is to sanitize the dishes; not actually clean them!”

Neither party is willing to surrender to the other, so what typically happens with this type of conflict is a grueling tactical stalemate that spills directly into the next phase of deployment: the loading zone.

Much like the competing approaches of rinsing (or lack thereof), loading the dishwasher is fraught with conflict. This tension develops over the various strategies utilized for placing items onto the upper or lower racks.

The first technique (if you can call it that) involves improvisational, ad-hoc protocols. Knives sit next to spoons, plates of differing sizes rest against bowls and even mugs. Plastic unapologetically cavorts with glass. It is willy nilly at its finest.

The second implementational campaign is systematic and methodical. Planning and precision are key. Spoons are situated together on the left side of the cutlery container. Forks rest in the center; knives line up to the right. Plates are organized according to size. Likewise, bowls have their proper place at the perimeter of the bottom rack. Cups sit neatly on the top rack, separated (of course) by size and shape. Plastic and glass do not intermix or intermingle — ever.

How does this conflict live out in real life? Typically our lackadaisical loader is over-ruled by technical tactics. A professional platoon leader will not tolerate such blatant disregard for maximum volumetric efficiency. The grand planner easily outlasts the indifference of the lazy loader and order is restored at last.

Score one for the Type A, OCD sorts living amongst us.

Kitchen wars are not over once the wash cycle is complete. Far from it. There is still a serious household battle to be fought: that of the unloading schematic. It’s psychological warfare at its best and it’s fought with evasive maneuvers and silent avoidance tactics.

Simply put: one party refuses to acknowledge the existence of the clean dishes. They treat the closed door like an active quarantine zone. Instead of placing all the dishes and silverware back into their respective cupboards and drawers, this group will open the dishwasher to pull out a single plate or fork when they have the need. Ignoring the entire rack of clean dishes is completely within their wheelhouse.

The other party longs to unload the dishwasher in its entirety, but realizes this would result in them losing the battle in its entirety. But then the inevitable happens: used dishes begin piling up in the sink. There is no where else to put them in this battle of wills.

This causes our Type A persona to head toward panic and escalation. It is devolving into a textbook Charlie Foxtrot moment, with our non-rinsing, lackadaisical loader being completely AWOL.

It is too much for the grand planner to endure. Begrudgingly they open the door and begin the task of unloading. This battle may have been lost, but the war is far from over. Tomorrow, dish wars will begin anew.

— Jill Pertler’s column Slices of Life appears occasionally in the Times. She can be reached at slicescolumn@gmail.com.