Friday, April 8, 2011

The Washing Machine

The other night I came home from riding after work.  It was about 8 pm.  Still daylight thanks to the time change, which I love, love, love.  I hate it when it gets dark at 5pm.  It's dark when I go to work and dark when I get off...it's annoying.  I don't really know why they don't leave it on daylight savings all year long.  They do in AZ, why not here???  Things would be different if I were king, let me tell you. 

Anyway, when I drove in I could see that The Husband had already fed the other horses (I rent a stall in a barn with a covered arena during the winter and swap the horses out so I can ride after work...works great and forces me to ride and not be a big friggin' baby about inclement weather).  Bless his heart...he really is worth his weight in gold...most of the time.

So The Husband ambled up (he doesn't walk...he ambles...s l o w l y...drives me crazy) and walked into the house with me.  Having gotten home before me, he had already been inside at least once...probably more than once...

We always use the side door that goes through the laundry room.  Actually it's so small it's more like a laundry closet and the addition of the new giganto bright red (I actually strayed from all white...boring appliances) front loader washer &  dryer make actually doing laundry physically challenging...so I do it as infrequently as possible...that and I'm lazy.  I'd rather be doing just about anything than housework.  Root canals are the exception...actually any dental procedure is worse than housework.  Oh God, I'm off track again...(must focus)

I followed The Husband in and immediately noticed the standing water on the floor.  The Husband, of course, was oblivious as he splashed down the hallway until I pointed it out. 

Me:  "What's with the water??"

Husband:  "What water?...huh...these are all wet" pointing at the clothes laying on the floor next to the washing machine waiting to be washed.

Husband:  "Did you turn on the washing machine before  you left this morning?"

Me:  "No" as I'm grabbing towels to sop up the mess.

Obviously there's a problem with the washing machine.  There's some "FE" code flashing on the digital display.  It means nothing to me or The Husband.

I manage to get towels down and start getting the water soaked up...but it's also seeped into the hallway which has carpet...which is saturated...which is impossible to dry out...which The Husband, who never wipes his feet, is now making mud on.

Men, being only slightly removed from their caveman predecessors, feel compelled to "take charge", to fix things...even if they really don't know how. It's my personal belief that the possession of a penis gives them a false sense of superhuman power...I could be wrong...but that's how it seems. As was the case with The Husband here...bless his heart. 

While I'm standing to the right of the washing machine in front of the dryer sopping up water on the floor, he opens the door of the front loading washing machine...a word of warning...never, never, do this without first looking to see if it's full of water...which it was...which added a good several gallons to the water already standing on the floor...which also filled my boots lined neatly against the opposite wall...which are about 24 inches from the washing machine  He did manage to get it shut before it completely emptied its contents onto the floor...bless his heart.  It was like that TV commercial that shows a house flooding...the closet door opens and out pours a closet full of water carrying the contents with it.  I started laughing...the look on his face was priceless...besides what else is there to do???

I finally manage to get most of the water off the floor in the laundry room.  I'm now trying to soak it off the carpet with towels...no wet/dry vac for me, no sir...too easy...plus it was way down in the barn...and as I've already established...I'm way too lazy to walk all the way down there.

While I'm sopping up water with towels, The Husband has managed to walk in and out of the house a couple of additional times...looking for the owner's manual for the washing machine.  "Please God, please don't let him find it."  My prayer goes unanswered...or the answer is no, I don't know which...personally I'd rather think it just didn't get heard rather than I was told no.  I hate being told no...even by God...which I'm sure is probably some weird sort of blasphemy that will keep me out of heaven.

Now it's almost 9 pm and I still haven't eaten. Water is finally gone from the laundry room floor...the carpet is as good as it's gonna get for the night.

Husband:  "I read the manual and found what "FE" means.  It means there could be a faulty water valve" as he starts to open a little door on the front of the machine. 

As I'm typing this I vaguely remember the sales person showing us this little area...I'm guessin' there was probably a significant reason he took the time to point this out...I obviously didn't pay attention.

Me: "You know, now is probably not the best time to try to fix it" said as diplomatically as possible.

Husband:  "Why not?" I can see Tim the Toolman itching to get out...I expect him to start grunting soon.

Me:  "Because it's late".

Husband:  No answer...just starts fiddling with the little door and unhooking a tube.  Basically I'm being totally ignored.

The Husband puts a five gallon bucket in front of the little door and turns a handle that starts to unscrew the filter.  As he unscrews, water starts pouring out...all over the just dried floor...a few drops actually made it into the bucket.  This does not please me but do I say anything???  No...I exhale loudly...heavy sigh...does The Husband hear it...of course not...he's deaf...and even after all these years, completely oblivious to my not so subtle signs of displeasure. 

After the initial flood, this is mild by comparison.  The Husband thinks he's fixed it.  I throw a pair of jeans in and run it through the cycle.  It's not fixed. 

Husband:  "I'll do some research tomorrow and see what I can find".

Me:  Dead silence.

Before my mom passed away, we moved a little mobile home on the property for her next to our house.  And...it has a brand new washer & dryer in it!!!  Score!  So I start lugging sopping wet towels over to the mobile home and throw them on the porch.  Loads are washed and order is restored to the laundry situation. 

Now most people wouldn't see this for the treasure it is.... If I'd been an organized, Johnny on the Spot type, the mobile home would have long ago been sold and moved by now.  My sloth like ways and tendency to procrastinate in all matters have paid off...big time...I don't have to lug laundry to a laundromat miles away...and I feel so...vindicated.

It makes me feel better to know that procrastination isn't always the evil trait it's made out to be.  It's the stoopidist thing...

P.S.  The Husband's "research" consisted of finding the number of a local repairman....Thank God he was here...what would I have done without him?