My washing machine

The Problem

I have a broken washing machine. There are a few necessities that I can't live without (any sugary foods or food-stuffs, the Thursday night line-up on NBC, tweezers) and a few things that, unfortunately it seems, I can live without (Tivo, my own personal Alice from the Brady Bunch, bras) but above all else I have learned I absolutely must have a washing machine. That works. Clean laundry, it seems, is what separates us from the homeless.
When we moved in last March we bought a lovely matched set from the Home Depot. They were simply stunning, their platinum finishes gleaming and digital displays revealing a seemingly endless combination of cleaning possibilities. Front loaders with super-jumbo capacities, these beauties set my heart a twitter. (The dryer even boasted a drying rack to be used for drying unmentionables, sweaters, fruit leather and the like.) Also very alluring were the fantastic rebates that were offered on each appliance. We were in love. Fast forward a number of months:
With platinum finish not so gleaming, my washing machine sits with a full load of wet, unwashed clothes and the ominous letters "OE" flashing from the digital display. I find the owners manual to decipher the code. "OE" has no direct translation into English, but it roughly means "your washing machine is broken and it will take weeks to fix it, leaving you with mountains of dirty laundry on the floor of your laundry room and children that look like they got dressed on a dare".

Fixing The Problem

Being an independent gal convinced that I had been given more than the average share of smarts when it comes to anything with moving parts, I immediately set to work. My method for fixing the problem basically consisted of unplugging the washing machine, plugging it back in again and starting it up. Then I would quickly leave the room to allow the thing a little privacy -- you know, get it's act together-- only to return later to disappointing results. (Coincidentally, this "give the thing a chance to fix itself" method also can be used on a clogged toilet.) Undaunted, I repeated this over a series of days until I was fully convinced that I needed a new method. Having grown up in a household with a father who believed he could fix any broken thing (and often fixed something so completely that we had to get a new one) I knew the limits of such mottoes as "If it won't fit, force it" and "Owners manuals are an insult to my intelligence" and so I went looking for a repair man. I called several appliance repair shops and was astonished to discover that many, many perky repair shop personnel could not or would not grasp the urgency of my current situation. Maybe my judgement had become clouded, but is 3 weeks a really ridiculous amount of time to wait for an appointment? I mean, I'm not asking to be granted audience with the Queen, I just want some guy with tools to show up. And did I mention that I have 5 uncommonly sticky children? Children that think they can pour their own milk and pancake syrup, kids that frequently find themselves having to explain all sorts of mishaps involving lipstick or hot cocoa or boysenberry jam?? Or Crisco??? As the song attests, Nooooobody knows the troubles I've seen....
But help was on the way. About a week after I called, a guy showed up and got to right to work. He was friendly and cheerful until about 15 minutes into the job, when the jolly was knocked right out of him. I remember hearing the loud thud of tools and the even louder angry words that indicated things were definitely not heading in the direction either of us wanted.

Sticking Together

He said the kind of things that no one should hear while waiting to have their appliance fixed. Things like "Dang it!" "Oh no!" "Gosh Darn it!" and most disturbing of all "Do you have any super glue? I need you to glue the tip back onto my finger".

I spent a tender moment gluing his finger for him (though I thought he was being a bit dramatic about the whole thing, since the part that I glued for him was the size and shape of a contact lens and hardly what I would have called the whole "tip" of his finger) and then realized that I had glued my own fingers to the super glue tube. Embarrassing to be sure, but it was nice to know that I had my afternoon all mapped-out and subsequently spent many diverting hours picking off the glue. Bleeding guy informed me that he had fixed my original problem and would be ordering me a motor for a new problem that coincided with his cut finger. In a very time-efficient turn of events he had managed to cut his finger and re-break my machine in the very same instant! But Good News, he said, the machine would most certainly work until he came back to replace the motor. It wasn't long before I knew the truth; that he was a bleeding liar.

I found myself with yet another load of unwashed laundry, only this time the display flashed "LE", which was a completely different problem all together. Different problem but same result; no hope of clean clothes for who knows how long.

A New System

Throughout this time I was called on to develop several coping strategies. As the supply of clean clothes quickly dwindled I found myself teaching my children the art of swapping, seasonal reassignment, and the miracle of 3-day-martinizing. Swapping: Wear something that someone else had already worn and left in a pile on the floor. The idea behind this technique is psychological. If you wear different clothes every day, you trick yourself into thinking that what you are wearing is clean, as opposed to wearing the same dirty clothes day after day (which we did in the end anyway). This method was especially useful for brothers wearing approximately the same size jeans and shirts. (Not so helpful, however, for twins of same size but opposite gender.) Seasonal reassignment: This one was a no-brainer. Simply locate the box of last summer's wardrobe on the closet shelf and viola! clean clothes! Sure there were problems, such as blizzards and wind-chills below zero. But if you wear snow boots and shorts that are over-sized enough they can almost pass as gauchos -- and what little Kindergartner doesn't look adorable in gauchos? (I thought Jonny really pulled off a look that can sometimes be unflattering, just ask anyone who got dressed in the '70's). And now for the truly miraculous 3-day-martinizing: I can't explain it, I can only tell you what I know. When you wear the same jeans day after day, after day, spots of dirt just seem to disappear. It is as if the clothes magically clean themselves! Wear dirty jeans long enough and somehow (I think it is through a complex process involving sunlight and friction) the dirt is gone! Plus, who doesn't love that "Am I losing weight?" feeling that comes from clothes that are overstretched by prolonged wear. This process also seems to work with any item left for a number of days in a pile of laundry. Sure, it was filthy when you put it in the laundry basket on Tuesday, but just pull it out today and put it on! Of course even with all of my little cheats and contrivances, certain items such as underwear and socks simply demanded laundering. Over a three week period I figure I did about 5 loads at my mom's house, most of them underwear. Because you just can't fake clean underwear.

I'm Confused

When the repair guy left, I was comforted by his assurances that he would order the motor and then come back and install it. I was less comforted a few days later when I got to wondering when this blessed event of new motor installation might occur and called the repair shop to ask about it. Angie, a very sweet, very concerned receptionist did her best to answer my questions and I did my best to understand her. English it seemed, was not her mother tongue. As near as I could figure she had my information in her system but no record of any motor order or even the name of the guy that I glued. She promised me she would do her best to figure out just what was going on and get back to me....days later. We played a rousing game of phone tag until finally she caught me and gave me the news; after asking all 30 of her repair men she found 3 that had cut fingers (a bloody profession to be sure) but none that were super glued. She gently suggested to me that perhaps I had made a mistake and that another repair shop altogether was involved. I honestly didn't think I had made a mistake, I mean, what are the chances? but I followed her advice and sure enough, it was Colorado Appliance that came to my house and not Action Appliance at all! Those of you that tested above grade level for reading comprehension in school surely took note several paragraphs ago that in my quest to find swift service I called several repair shops. The reason Action Appliance had my name and address in their system was because I had initially made an appointment with them but cancelled it when Colorado Appliance had a slot for me a week sooner. Well, mystery solved but still the mountains of laundry would have to wait because my motor was still on order. Week two of our little experiment in filth was coming to an end and we all eagerly awaited our repair man, Bleeding Patrick, as ardently as we had awaited dear old Santa just weeks before. Well, that last part is a lie to suggest the children were at all interested in our laundry woes. Josie in particular was happy to sashay around the house in her Hawaiian halter top and grass skirt, along with other less appropriate attire including at one point, a pair of her brothers' tighty whities. She thought that was hilarious.

Happy Happy, Joy Joy

I still just have to pinch myself to know that this new life - this life of around the clock laundry duty - is really real and not just some lovely fantasy. Bleeding Patrick showed up two days ago and delivered us from our three week experiment in terror. I practically wanted to kiss him on the mouth. I am only about five loads of laundry behind so now I'm officially all caught up! I think we all learned a lot through this trial, especially me. I learned that pride in one's personal appearance is important to humans (especially my little human Sid who didn't enjoy wearing the same jeans to fifth grade 4 days in a row last week), Clean Breaze Tide provides the best aroma therapy for your detergent dollar, and that we should all make much more of an effort to encourage the fashion industry to develop disposable clothing.