Ready

We have a funny washing machine. We count our lucky starts that we have any washing machine at all. Your average New York apartment does not have a washing machine or any way to hook one up were you to have your own. New Yorkers either hire others to wash their laundry (this is really common and not reserved for upper class types like you might guess), or lug the dirty attire to the local laundramat. We do neither. We bought a washing machine that hooks up to the kitchen sink. It sits in our kitchen and runs a load every morning (because the loads are quite small). There are two hoses: one connected to the faucet and the other hangs over the side of the sink emptying the dirty water back down the drain. There is suppose to be a drying function on the washer, but no matter how long I run the drying function, the clothes are never dry. They dry on a drying rack, and in the winter it takes no time at all (because of our extreme heating: see previous post).

Anyway, this washing machine has a filter that needs cleaning out time and again. Something I can never remember to do. The washing machine pretty much has to act up to remind me to do it.

So, this morning it was acting up. I stopped the load and started unscrewing the door to clean out the filter. The next part happened in slow motion. I remembered that you are not suppose to unscrew that little door while water was in the washer or....woosh! There was Lake Laundry in our kitchen. Yuck.

So, Andrew was sequestered to his crib with books and milk while I filled a trash can full of laundry water. The floor is clean and dry now. Oh what an adventure! Despite it all, I love the little washer and would much rather have Random Unfortunate Accidents like this morning's, opposed to the laundry lug across the street.

Somehow, among the rukus, I prepped the materials for my card making class this Friday!

Mulit-tasking at it's best.