I was doing laundry the other day. I am a stay-at-home mom and, although I don’t entirely include laundry in my job description, I do seem to be the most logical person to do it. After all, I am within several yards of the laundry room more often than any other adult in my house. Yes, I do laundry.
Where was I? I was doing laundry.
Did I mention that I wasn’t just doing a little bit, but I was doing a whole houseful of laundry before taking five relatively messy humans on a long trip? Oh, and I had decided it would be a reasonable time, since I was doing laundry, to wash all the sheets as well. And, I needed to sort socks. We have upwards of 80 pairs of socks in the house; none of them match. It was driving me crazy.
The dryer reached at least 350 degrees. I could have fried a steak on my dryer (I wish I had thought of it at the time, I could have made dinner as well).
I left. I came back. Surely, I thought, this thing will cool off. Surely, other housewives do this much laundry. Do people really just do one load a day? It was still hot. Then, I couldn’t help it.
I took it apart.
I was a little frustrated, I guess, but more importantly, it just seemed like the right thing to do. My kids watched. It was full of lint (surprised I didn’t find any socks, or even shoes) so I got the vacuum. My kids watched. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised, but the vacuum started to get really hot. It slowed down. My dryer was overcoming my vacuum. I couldn’t let the dryer win this easily. I turned off the vacuum.
And, I took it apart.
The beater brush was full of threads. Every tube was full of dust. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I have a shop vac in my garage. I pulled it out. I was going to vacuum my vacuum. Yes, I really was, except the shop vac wasn’t pulling a vacuum.
Yes, I took it apart.
This time, though, I didn’t need a screwdriver. I found the sock in the hose: of course, a sock.
I vacuumed my vacuum. I vacuumed my dryer. The kids watched.
Just as I was ready to put the dryer back together, my husband walked in from work.
“Honey?”
“I’m in the laundry room,” I called.
He saw the shop vac (now fixed), the vacuum, about a quart of lint on the floor and his wife with a set of screwdrivers, working on the dryer.
“What are you doing honey?”
“Turning you on.”
Posts
Bonuses Can Benefit Users in Situs Judi Online
15 hours ago
2 comments:
I don't know how you found me, but I'm glad you did. Your post made me laugh out loud. Because, I am married to an engineer. And, after almost 20 (hey, 2 months shy of 19, I deserve to call it 'almost 20) years of marriage, I can see myself ALMOST doing that. Except taking apart the dryer ... though, I have vacuumed down deep into it and paused to consider what I could invent that would make it easier (and earn me loads of $$ in the meantime). I'm going to subscribe to you!
Standing still, If you can even THINK about making money off of laundry lint, you are awesome in my book. As for finding you, I'm not sure I could retrace my steps, but I've got you on my list now.
Post a Comment