Washing War

Yesterday, J.R. and I went fishing on a beautiful river just north of Baltimore. It was a warm day so I decided to wet wade it. Other than the fact that the river was freezing cold, waist deep, and mucky on the bottom... it wasn't to bad. My pants ended up covered in mud. Thinking it would be no big deal and I would be able to wash them when I returned home, I changed clothes and didn't think twice of the caked on mud.

By the time we returned home and unpacked the car it was almost eleven at night. I sorted the laundry and was sure that the washer would be open. I hauled the heavy clothes basket downstairs only to discover that not just one, but BOTH washers in use. Thinking that I would be able to sneak in my clothes after the loads were done in 22 minutes, I left the basket downstairs. Half an hour later I returned to find yet another two loads had magically appeared in the washer. Realizing that it would be at least another hour before I could even start washing my clothes I gave up for the night.

I woke up this morning feeling refreshed. I rolled out of bed, threw a sweatshirt on, and ran downstairs with my overflowing basket of laundry. I could not believe my eyes. Both washing machines running and another load waiting to go in. I threw the basket down and returned to my room. I waited another two hours before going back downstairs to check. Finally one machine had opened. I threw in the muddy clothes and smiled as victory was mine at last. Twenty more minutes and I would not only have one machine but two.

Twenty-five minutes passed. I run downstairs eager to throw in another load. In the few minutes that the washer was empty another house member swept in and stole my second machine (*@#*$&!). Now clearly my basket of clothes was sitting there waiting and I was next in line. But evidently this means nothing anymore. So I again have declared war. I will be sitting by the machines guarding them from anyone who thinks they are going to sneak in before me. I am NOT leaving this house until all three loads have been washed and I once again have enough underwear to make it through the week.

Oh the joys of living in a cracker box.