My automatic washing machine finally died last week. For some time the door was only hanging on by one hinge and it had to be wedged shut. It had worked quite happily like this for about two years since the boy had tried to use it as a step (whilst open) in order to climb onto the kitchen worktop. This would in turn give him access to the higher units where all the goodies were once kept out of reach.
The boy was barely 2 years old at the time. He had first exhibited his aptitude for climbing when I heard a loud thud, which took my attention away from the Saturday evening Celtic League match I was trying to enjoy. To facillitate the enjoyment of the said match I had placed the boy in his all singing, all dancing travel cot/playpen/nappy changing station. He had an assortment of his favourite cuddly playthings to keep him company. He was about seven or eight months old and was a late developer in the walking department, having reached the stage where he could just about manage to shuffle a few feet, usually whilst clinging to the table cloth. Result: much broken crockery.
Anyway the thud was the sound of boy's head meeting wilton carpet (I won't go into that today). The little blighter had managed to create a ramp out of all his toys which had enabled him to scale the side of the travel thingy and clamber over the side. His plan was only half baked as he had not prepared a suitable landing area.
I watched the remainder of the match comforting him, with the volume at full blast to drown his little sobs. This wasn't the first time that he had managed to spoil my enjoyment of the breautiful game. That was a 6 Nations match between Wales and Scotland and the little bugger hadn't even been born yet. Wife said that she thought that she was in labour, and she should know cos this was the third time. I said, "you can't be, it's still the first half." She was quite insistent and so I agreed to wait until half time and review the situation.
At half time wife was adamant and so insisted that I take her to hospital. I argued that on number 1 and 2 she had done everything within her power to extend the pregnancy to world record lengths. She still insisted. Then she played her trump card, as women always do. "If anything goes wrong, I hope you can live with the guilt." Five minutes later I was breaking the speed limit on the way to PCH, desperately trying to get there, get her booked in and settled, and then trying to watch the remnants on some poxy little portable tv that had more than its share of interference. My efforts were in vain, I didn't see any more of the action as Wales won their only match of that particular 6 Nations. Boy was born 12 hours later!!!
Back to the washing machine. Well apart from the dodgy door, for about six months, only one setting worked - 30 degree wash. We could manage with this, but unfortunaley it didn't automatically go to rinse. We had to actually wait for the end of the wash and turn the dial to rinse to get the damned thing to rinse. And then do the same for the spin. Not exactly an automatic washing machine really.
We put up with that until last week when despite doing all of the above, the washing came out actually smelling worse than before it went in. Anyone who's ever caught a whiff of my three day old boxers may find that hard to believe, but believe me it's true. Wife slapped me very hard for no reason at all, when I politely enquired if she had forgotten to put in the washing powder. So that was it, it had to go.
So check the internet, find good looking model (not Naomi Campbell or Cindy Crawford unfortunately), £50 off plus free delivery, connection and disposal of old model. Tell wife all of above. She's very happy. GREAT.
Delivery people phone on Monday and talk to wife. Arrange delivery for today (Wednesday) between 11 and 12 am. GREAT.
Last night I disconnect old machine in readiness as requested. Today I leave for work at 10 past 7 am. Work until 20 past 8 pm. Drive to swimming pool on way home to collect oldest girl from swimming club which finishes at 9pm. Leave there at 20 past 9 pm after she has a shower and changes. Arive home at 25 to 10 pm. fourteen and a half hours after leaving home this morning. F***ING GREAT. The new maching is outside utility room still in all its packaging. Ask wife what it's doing there. She says delivery man Del asked her where to put it, and she said by there, and that's where Del left it. I asked wife why he hadn't installed as per free connection. Blank look. I ask where delivery note is. No delivery note, Del only asked for electronic signature. Wife says she didn't know, even though we discussed how good the deal was. I get the balme and end up installing the bloddy thing anyway.
Tomorrow wife is going to complain - I'll let you know if anything develops.