This is what my life has come to. The thing I’m most looking forward to today, is the delivery of my new washer/dryer.
Our old Kenmore dryer finally bit the dust after a long, drawn-out demise. First the interior light went kaput. Next the tumbler started to fall apart. And periodically the machine would emit a sour, burning odor and the clothes would come out smelling like a chemical plant.
Even so, PB and I were more than happy to live with our dryer’s shortcomings. The last thing we wanted to do was sink our hard-earned cash into a home appliance. We were saving for more exotic things. Like a trip to the Galapagos. Or, more likely, another rec-league hockey tournament in the bowels of Philadelphia.
By god, we were rooting for that dryer to hang on. And it did. Until a few days ago, when it dried its last load. Or should I say, partially dried its last load. I went down to the wash-room to rotate the clothes only to find that it had stopped mid-cycle. I cranked it up again. Five minutes later, silence. This time for good.
Of course, handy Jewish guy that he is, PB rolled up his sleeves to fix it. He unbolted the back and shone his flashlight into its lint-encrusted, metal workings. But he quickly realized it was probably more complicated than a broken fan belt and not worth the expense of calling in a professional.
So we took a meeting. And decided if we had to buy a new dryer, we should probably bite the bullet on a new washer. From the looks of its faux-wood control-panel and the dots of red nail polish I had painted on the basically unreadable wash-settings dial, it had seen better days.
Off we went for a romantic date to the local home appliance store. PB, armed with consumer printouts and prices, looking for the best value. Me, secretly hoping we’d walk away with a beyond sleek, front-loading washer/dryer in the latest designer shade.
Standing in front of a pair of cherry red front-loaders, my fantasy came to a grinding halt. There was no way in hell my forty-something back could withstand all that bending down to stuff in the clothes.
That reality-check made the decision much simpler. After all, we didn’t have the luxury of dawdling. By the time the new washer/dryer was delivered, our dirty laundry would be piled as high as the stainless steel refrigerators on the appliance showroom floor.
As consolation for not getting the cool front-loaders, I convinced PB that we should go for a washer that had a hand-wash cycle. According to Conrad, our very nice salesman, it’s even gentler than the delicate cycle. I know! Who knew?
Now, two days later, as I wait for the delivery of our new appliances, I’ve decided to really boost the excitement meter. I’m switching out my summer clothes for my winter ones. It was a very brisk 37 degrees this morning. My warm, soft sweaters are finally coming out of the storage bin. Soon I’ll be running them through the hand-wash cycle!
This is what life is about, right. Being grateful for the little things no matter how mundane?
That reminds me, I’m looking forward to another big thrill in our lives. Next week the driveway gets repaved. Woo hoooo!!!!!
