Of course it had to happen.
Now that the first mortgage repayment has been made... now that the entire house and its contents are solely ours... the washing machine decides to go belly up and do a fine impression of a dying fly (complete with spin cycle and eco-wash option).
I came home yesterday afternoon to find the programming dial clicking manically through every point on its fascia while the washing drum sat flooded and still like Romney Marsh. My underpants were not happy.
So, as some wise blogger commented on this ‘ere blog a few weeks ago, now the house is ours so are ALL the bills. Oh joy.
Even as I write a washing machine repair man of the highest calibre has already been engaged to come to the rescue of my grundies on Monday afternoon.
Hopefully the operation will be quick, painless and cheap.
My pants await with baited breath...
6 comments:
Bloody technology! Let’s hope the dye (of said garment) didn’t run!!
Like the comparison with Romney Marsh - quite a unique simile.
You seem unnaturally fixated on your underpants, Steve. Is your real name Leo Sayer by any chance?
Hey, I just like to have a clean pair of underpants every day and have them hand washed (literally one handed) by Jade's mother. ;-)
I'm impressed you could pin the repairman down to 'afternoon' on Monday. I usually get told to wait in all day because I couldn't possibly have a life other than to wait for my appliance to be fixed.
Hope it fixes OK.
Nits AND unwashed pant? I'm not coming round your house for tea, mate.
Can I just point out that there is utterly no connection bewteen the nits and my unwashed pants...
By the way: repairman turned up dead on time. Washing machine now fixed and eager to be taken for a spin...
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