Washing Machines

It’s laundry day. How do I know this? The only clean thing in my cupboard is a tiny, old school shirt with hair dye all over it.

“No problem!” says the happy, optimistic me.

I had no idea what I was in for.

The beginning part wasn’t too bad, scavenging my room for dirty clothes – my clothes were hiding from me in the most BIZARRE places –, dragging my washing basket to the kitchen and chucking it all in the washing machine – easy. Put in the washing powder, turn it on, close the lid. Done. Awesome.

No. It wasn’t. As soon as I turned my back, DISASTER struck!

After about 20 minutes I noticed a small trickle of water peering around the corner from the kitchen.

Uh-oh.

I SPRINTED through to the kitchen, to find the floor almost completely flooded. I waded through the millimeter high water, fearing for my life. Eventually I made it to the machine and managed to turn it off.

Phew.

Must have been a burst pipe. I surveyed the situation, mortified. What lay before me was meters of wet floor to mop and a washing machine filled with soapy, soggy clothes. Actually sopping is more like it, but for some reason that word sounds dirty to me.

Anyway, I then spent 20 minutes wringing out all my wet clothes and throwing them into the tumble-drier. My fingers were beginning to PRUNE, but bravely I pressed on.

Then I spent another 30 AGONISING minutes crawling on my hands and knees across the kitchen floor with a towel –causing my legs to become ITCHY- mopping up the carnage and destruction that my unfaithful washing machine had so cruelly caused.

Eventually the job was done, and I made my way across the tiles to the tumble-drier and turned the start dial – despite all of my hardships, I was hopeful. I was NAIVE.

NYRRRRR, bang.. ^bang, _bang… BANG!

That was the end of the tumble-drier. Wires must have gotten wet in the flood. MY WASHING MACHINE MURDERED MY TUMBLE-DRIER!

I fell to my knees (though the floor was still slightly wet), shook my fist at the ceiling (because I was inside and couldn’t see the sky) and screamed “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” (because I was distraught).

So I’m left with soapy, wet clothes, itchy legs and two dead kitchen appliances.

Washing machines, they piss me off.