Kia ora, is there anything more annoying than inanimate objects? The first time in my life I ever said the F-word was when I found the washing machine had overflowed – I was in my 30s and had three kids, a late starter at swearing perhaps? I’ve more than made up for it since, you might say.
Well, last Saturday, I got up, put the washing on, made a cup of tea and took it (the tea, darlings, the tea) back to bed. When I went back some time later, the laundry, toilet and kitchen were flooded.
You’re pretty bright – you’ll know what I said as I grabbed umpteen towels from the hot water cupboard and threw them all round the floor. I said it more than once. No stars in my crown that day. In fact a few probably fell off.
It took two lots of towels before the floor was dry and I could investigate why it had flooded. The washing machine hose drains into the laundry tub and there was nothing blocking the hole – nothing ????????
I poked around with a plunger and there was a huge belch and something went right on down the plughole.
I was reminded of that old vaudeville song (you wouldn’t know it, you’re too young), My Baby has Gone Down the Plughole, which I taught to all my kids and one of them got his own back on my last birthday when he sang it to me, all the verses, word perfect. Oh we pay for our sins all right.
Did I really teach a little innocent child that song?
I told an old friend about it and she said, ‘Oh yes I remember teaching my daughter that. Must ask her if she remembers it.’
Something in the water perhaps?
Well, whatever it was in the plughole, I can confidently state, it was not a baby – but it sounded exactly like – oh don’t let’s go there…
By the time I’d washed just about every towel in the house, the washing lines were groaning and so was I. My shoulder – oh forget it – you’ve already heard enough about that. Let’s just say I was very very frazzled.
So I left the pulling out of the machine and washing under it till this morning. To my surprise it was hardly damp but it was very very very dusty and cobwebby – I think the word I’m struggling for is filthy?
Now it is pristine and I bet you a pinch of shit to a pound of peanuts (an old saying – I learned it, I think, in the womb, I don’t know what it means and I don’t care), I bet you etc etc there will be no emergency requiring the washing machine to be pulled out by a strange man. Oh no, those emergencies only happen when you haven’t cleaned behind and under the washing machine or fridge for years, right? So I’m safe for a while.
It’s given me a bit of post-traumatic stress though – I’m having difficulty taking a cup of tea back to bed and having a lie-in.
Just kidding…
