|Hurray! It's an engineer!|
Except he can't. No one sells parts. When he called the local appliance store for a new circuit board, they laughed at him and told him to buy a new machine.
Now my husband, when he gets on a mission, is a bulldog. He just won't give up. He scoured heaven and earth (google) to find those parts.
|any excuse to add a photo of a dog|
And Lo! They will arrive on our doorstep this week, and he can fix the washer.
Here's the thing, though. I am DROWNING in laundry right now. We had just come back from a trip to the beach before the breakdown. Trips to the beach mean dirtying huge, heavy things, like beach towels. They tower in great dirty piles all over my house.
Plus, I'm doling out clean socks like a miser. And pajamas. ("Wear them another night, you're too young to sweat yet.")
I never realized how much I loved my washing machine until I didn't have it any more. I'm ready to grab those towels and socks and head out for a river and two flat rocks.
Oh, don't laugh at me, Mr. Maytag! I'm down to wearing those old pants, not that I was ever a fashion plate anyway, and the T-shirt that I wore to paint my mom's house. The shirt is black, the paint was white - you do the math.
So please, reading public, please cross your fingers for me that those parts arrive in the mail today. And give your own washing machine a pat from me.