On the Fritz
A few days ago the washing machine started making a funny noise. The kind of noise that makes me glad I have a husband who can fix things. But also a noise that let me know we will most likely be spending money we didn’t intend on spending. Right before Christmas.
On the other hand… new washer? Which I totally wanted anyway. Which might be on sale because there are lots of husbands out there who buy their wives new washing machines and blenders and probably even toasters for Christmas. (If you’re the wife getting a toaster I hope it’s one of the 4-slice kinds with slots big enough for bagels.)
Then my husband took the washer all apart and I could hear him shouting from the laundry room that he’d found something. I thought it was a sock escape tunnel and he could block it off and we’d all finally stop wearing mismatched socks. Instead he found a bobby pin that was stuck and I was pretty surprised that a bobby pin could cause this much trouble. But of course it didn’t because removing it didn’t solve the problem. I still have to scold my teenage daughter for leaving bobby pins in her pockets. Like you really need to carry them for emergency fly-aways.
The upshot is we are calling a repairman who will likely fix it and I won’t be getting a new washer on sale for Christmas. I did get this cute picture though.