I wish I could say yesterday was odd for me. Unfortunately, it’s not. I don’t know why I’m so prone to drama. Meet my mortal enemy…
Yep. It’s a washing machine. It’s normal mode of torture is eating one sock out of a pair. It has also been known to do interesting things with ink pens. One of the greatest torture techniques was conspiring with the dryer to do unholy things with a crayon Arleigh left in a buttoned up pocket. Oh the horrors!!! Yesterday, it found a new and very evil way to torment me.
I am constantly behind on laundry. I threw a load in before I went to bed and forgot about it. That’s not unusual for me. I was rushed to get the kids to school and I went straight to the church. I get back home a little after lunch to a quiet house except for a rumbling in the garage. I go out there and the washing machine is running. I look to see what’s in it thinking Ray probably needed something, came home in a fit of rage and did a load of laundry disappearing into the rainy day. I can’t believe that was my logical explanation. Why, it’s the clothes from last night. Seriously, my next thought is what neighborhood kid is messing with me. The back door was unlocked. The water in the washer was hot, not the cold I had set it too last night. Idiot me didn’t think to look at the knob set to cold.
Typical Brandi goes into her dramatics. I call Ray. He’s, of course, in telcons all day unreachable. I call his cell phone, call his work phone. I finally resort to texting. It said something like this, “Have you been home? Now is not the moment to mess with me!”
He calls. He was wondering when he left for work at what time I got up to do laundry.He hadn’t been home. The washer was running for about 13 hours. The agitation would have heated up the water. I am an idiot. I turned the dial. It finished it’s cycle. It’s now sitting in the gargage taunting me with the 5 loads of the girls clothes that has to be done over the weekend.