I sent my tall son off to Iowa with instructions to get a picture of himself with someone famous. For my blog. He shakes hands with Mitt and forgets the photo op (what kind of politician will he BE???). He gets interviewed for Good Morning America, and no picture. Then he calls yesterday and says, "Hey, I met somebody famous!" "Oh really?" say I. "And who was that?" He replies, "Ted Danson, the bar owner from Cheers."
Now, I know beggars can't be choosers, but Ted Danson? He's a Hillary fan, isn't he? I've got to teach my boy some things.
In other most fascinating news (c'mon, you know you're waiting with baited breath), the washing machine that I thought was broken, really isn't. It just took me three days to figure that out.
Tall one has an appropriately tall coat which he left home and asked me to wash before he went back to school. The label suggested machine washing it on the delicate cycle, cold water, mild detergent (are you excited yet?), and NO dry cleaning. So I put the coat in, etc., etc., and when I pull it out to put it in the dryer, it is dripping water all over the floor.
I should stop here mid-drivel to tell you I have a Maytag Neptune - the front-loader from hell. It has been a perfect example of what not to do with $1000 - unless you love to grow mildew and replace mother-boards.
It really was no surprise that the machine wasn't spinning correctly. Every time it spins we fear it will put a hole in the wall with all the banging, and it sounds like a P-3 taking off (reference to our Navy Air days). So I pull the washer out, and remove the back cover to check the belt. It's fine. Then I get the brilliant idea to put the coat back in and set it to just spin so I can watch from the back of the machine. No such luck. It doesn't spin. The motor is running, but no turning of the drum is happening. Me? I am so sad because I do copious quantities of laundry, and Tall One is coming home with a week's worth.
I push the mess back in and walk away. For two days. Then last night I sent Elijah to the neighbor's to spin the still-sopping-wet coat so I can dry it. He comes home and I try to put it in the dryer again, and you'll NEVER BELIEVE THIS but it is STILL dripping wet.
Silly me. I think the neighbor's washer isn't spinning well either.
Oh, I do crack myself up.
And I keep thinking that for 13 more hours. At some point, it occurs to me that both washers not spinning is just a wee bit coincidental, so I decide to do some sleuthing. This may get dangerous.
I put a few towels in the washer and set it to run a normal cycle. It fills. It tumbles. It drains. IT SPINS. Like there's no tomorrow. I can hear the P-3's taking off.
Turns out that one coat is too heavy to be spun on the delicate cycle. Who knew? My husband will be thrilled that I just saved him another $1000 - he refused to put any more money into this machine and has been waiting for it to break one more time so he could throw it off the tailgate into the big garbage sucking thing at the transfer station.
When that happens, I will DEFINITELY get a picture.
Be thankful ~