Our first washer was a wedding gift. The second one arrived on our tenth anniversary. What am I supposed to make of needing a washer now and the nearest “holiday” is April Fool’s Day?
My father-in-law has the same washer and dryer he purchased when he built his house. Forty years ago. He’s only on his second refrigerator and dishwasher of his life. We’ve been married 17 years and are already on our second refrigerator, fifth car, fourth stove, second dryer, fourth dishwasher, second dog, and now, third washer. Dad just doesn’t understand. Neither do we.
Sure, we sit back in our rockers and sigh, “They just don’t make large appliances like they used to, do they dear?” But do we really buy that? I mean, are we somehow mistreating our large appliances and large-expense items? It can’t be because we’re frivolous — remember, this is the man with socks older than me and kids who, before they could walk, learned to say, “Just fix it with duct tape.”
Perhaps I emit some strange magnetic force that wreaks havoc on anything requiring more than 60 watts of power. There could be an entire hidden galaxy of Appliance and Gasoline Motor gods that doomed me from birth.
“There, that one, the little baby with all the hair and the weird middle name. Let’s make her life real miserable,” boomed Crisis, the goddess of Domesticity.
“But Crisis, she’s already been born into a family with three older brothers. Isn’t that enough pain for one mortal lifetime?”
“No, this one will need to be tougher than the typical housewife. Remember, she’ll survive difficult births only to have the daughter grow up and act just like her. Her son will grow to be taller and far smarter than she, plus learn to drive before she’s too senile not to be scared. She’ll need strength to endure the perpetual Maternal Revenge Phenomena that will envelop her.”
Surprisingly, mother didn’t giggle when I told her my washer overflowed and flooded the kitchen. “What were you doing that you didn’t hear it right away?”
“I was on eternal hold with the credit union, who informed me via telegram my VISA was canceled due to a retailer security breach. I closed the laundry room door so I could hear the nice Muzak. I didn’t notice the cold, flowing water until I stepped in it. At first I thought the dog had slobbered more than usual … but then I saw the waves lapping at the threshold of the next room.”
“You know why this happened, don’t you?”
“Yes, Scott’s out of town.”
“And?”
“I’d finally convinced him to buy a laptop?”
“Now you’ll get a washer instead. And?”
“Because I don’t have a credit card to buy a new washer?”
“And?”
“And knowing me, it’s the only way my floor would get mopped this year?”
“Right!”
“Thanks for the encouragement, Mom.”
“Anytime.”
Karen Rinehart is a newspaper humor columnist, public speaker, and the creator of The Bus Stop Mommies™. She is also author of Invisible Underwear, Bus Stop Mommies and Other Things True To Life. You can read more of her work at karenrinehart.net. Karen lives in Concord, North Carolina with her two kids, one husband and goofball dog, where they attend St. James Catholic Church. (Well, they leave the dog at home.) She enjoys hearing from readers across the States and as far away as Australia, Japan and England.
