So, as I opened the front loading door, Niagara Falls, the Canadian, side burst forth. I saw guinea pig hair, fleece, and foam enjoying the ride over the impromptu falls. All I could do was sit there and watch as a stench filled the air. I thought of packing up the boys and moving to Canada. But first, I had to call for the maintenance guy’s answer service:
Service: “Hello, this is *blank* *blank*’s answering service… How can I help you?”
Me: “Yes, I need to report a maintenance issue.”
Service: “Ok, tell me what going on.”
Me: “The washer machine in the lower laundry area blew up.” I heard the rapid clicking of keys.
Service: “So… The machine blew up?”
Me: “Well, no… Don’t use the words ‘blow up’. Uhmmmm…” I had to back track on my strength of description of the incident. “Ok. It exploded…”
Service: “Uhhmmmmm… Do I need to call the fire department?”
Me: “Uh, no, uh it was a water-type explosion…”
Service: “Well, mam, that still sounds like you need the fire department.”
Me: “No, no fire department.”
Service: “So, what should I tell them happened to the machine?”
Me: “Ok, I put the detergent in, the correct amount, turned it on, and then it made a lot of foam while washing.” Again, I heard a lot of clicking of computer keys. “Well, then it didn’t drain.”
Service: “Ok, I get it. Is your issue that your laundry is stuck in the machine?”
Me: “Yeah, in hind sight, it may have been a good idea to keep the door shut…huh?”
Service: “Did you open the door when it was in cycle?”
Me: “NO, it was locked. But I opened it when it was done….”
Me: “And Niagara Falls happened….”
Service: “Oh, a flood…”
Me: “Yea and it smells…bad, like real bad…”
Service: “How big is the flood?”
Me: “I’ve managed to push some of the water down the floor drain. That’s backed up too.”
Service: “Oh, my….”
Me: “I need a favor…”
Service: “Sure, if it’s possible…”
Me: “Please make it abundantly clear that I DID NOT put too much laundry detergent in that machine…”
Service: “I’m sure you know how to do your laundry…”
Me: “Yes. But, I don’t want to hear about it for the next six months from the maintenance guy… He will tell me that I added too much soap. I didn’t.” Once again, I heard the clicking of the computer keys.
Service: “I’m sure he will understand that it’s a backup and not your fault.”
Me: “Yea, just like my frozen pipes weren’t my fault…and then they were the next day…”
Service: “I’ll add a note for you.”
The phone call ended with the usual remarks between two polite persons. After I put my phone down, I reached into the machine to remove some of the boys’ items. A second wave of stench hit me as I removed a snuggle sack. It smelled like a combination of sewer, guinea pig, beans, and nasty socks. I truly thought I was going to die. But, one by one I found, rung out, and retrieved the boys’ items.
To make matters worse, the boys are quite attached to their fleece items. The temporary items I had placed in the cage had a limited life before dissatisfaction took root. As I pulled each item out of the laundry, I thought of it as a small victory…a small smelly victory. By the time I was finished, I was wet, dirty, and very smelly.
Someone opened the laundry door, scanned the room, sniffed, and quickly retreated from the mess. I didn’t blame them for one moment. Luckily there are two laundry rooms where I live. I hiked up to the second laundry room and restarted the boys’ laundry.
When I got back to the apartment, I got a rude greeting from both boys. They simultaneously started chattering their teeth at me. “Yeah,” I sighed, “I stink.” Then added, “But do you have to be so rude about it?” I went into the bathroom took off my clothes and took a hot shower. When I was done, I gathered my other laundry and went back up to the laundry room.
The first load was done. I pulled out a piece and smelled it. There was a slight smell. ‘No big deal,’ I thought. I put the laundry in the dryer and went back to my apartment to wait. After 30 minutes the second load was done and the boys’ stuff was dry. When I pulled out the dry laundry, there was a slight smell. Again, I thought, ‘No big deal…’
I went back to my apartment and put the boys’ freshly cleaned and dried items in their cage. Fred smelled one of the snuggle sack and chattered his teeth. Lamont went near the other and then ran in the other direction. “Oh, crud,” I sighed. Fred looked up at me with a defiant look. It was his, ‘you-can’t-make-me-do-this-no-matter-who-you-think-you-are’ look. “That bad?” I asked Fred. Lamont was cowering in the corner.
I changed out all of the ‘smelly’ items. I did the best I could to make the boys like the cage items I had for them. It took four washes at my parents’ house to get the fleece clean enough for the boys to use. Eventually, they started to use the items again. I had managed to save all of the fleece items the boys loved so much.
Point Awards: KA: – 1 Washing Machine +1
Don’t worry. That washing machine will get its due. I’m just waiting on the perfect time. Revenge is a cycle best set on cold…