I thought I’d try to catch up on some laundry this morning, but the only problem is, it’s been raining. A lot. In Washington. I know I’m being redundant. The mere mention of Washington implies rain, right?
What does rain have to do with laundry? Let me explain.
I put in just a few pairs of socks, two shirts, underwear (nothing brings out complaining children like the lack of clean underwear) and a few dish towels. I thought having a small load might do the trick. You see, I’ve been here before. Trying to do laundry in January. What was I thinking?
I took a break from doing laundry to say hello to Vern on the phone (my best friend for those of you who’ve read my book). I asked her how her day was going and then promptly yelled, “I gotta go! The laundry!”
Sure enough, the washing machine had made it to the rinse cycle. It rinsed alright. All over our bathroom floor. Apparently, the ground outside is saturated with rain water.
Now, not only did I not catch up my laundry, I have soggy towels to wash and a bathroom floor to mop up.
I might end up on the news very soon: “Local author writes book, goes beserk with bulldozer, levels her house in the flats, and moves to the Bahamas.”
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