On Friday I broke my washing machine. You see, I like to overstuff my machine. When you’re washing for a family of four, you cram as much in the thing as you can legally manage. Not that there’s a washing machine stuffing law or anything, but maybe there should be. The more clothes I can jam in there, the fewer loads I have to do. It’s all very scientific and mathematical.
But, this time my system failed me. I stuffed an obscene number of towels, a blanket, and one of those baby shopping cart covers in there, poured in the soap, and let her go. Everything was fine until she got to the spin cycle. Then the frightening noises began. And the walking of the machine across the laundry room floor. Then the big crack that was followed by an eerie silence. That was the end of my washer.
I tried to be very grumpy about the fact that we had to buy a new one. I feigned all sorts of disgust at the amount of money this was going to cost us. I didn’t want to be excited. But, I couldn’t help it.
It’s a strange phenomenon that occurs sometime between the year you get married and the year you have your first child. I call it Major Appliance Euphoria (MAE). It’s an illness that comes on totally against your will, and one that certainly makes you feel old before your time. Once I couldn’t care less what brand of washer I had or whether my dryer had a digital readout. I went for ten years with NO DISHWASHER, for Heaven’s sake! But, you just reach a point when suddenly you get a little giddy at the thought of a washing machine with a wrinkle reduction cycle. It’s a little embarrassing.
But, I am right in the middle of a raging case of MAE, and I am a more than a little anxious to get my brand new 4.3 cubic feet super plus capacity washer. Just imagine how huge my loads can get now! I can rule the world!
I won’t overstuff my new washer, I won’t overstuff my new washer…