I think my house is working towards an audition for a remake of Demon Seed as various bits of kit within it appear to be taking on a life of their own in order to make my life a misery. Like the washing machine. Like all three washing machines. Like all three of the buggers who today chucked caution to the wind and and threw a swim party in my utility room.
Number one. Sulking. Obstinate. Reprimanded and placed in the garden to think about its behaviour. Number two waited in the study ready to take centre stage while the Crockabilly and Con-Con prepared the set. On the final unveiling washing machine number two became unbecomingly attention seeking and spewed water all over the floor.
There was, despite there being both Crockabilly and myself in the vicinity, a strange calm. Not a perfect calm as neither of us are famed for our patience under pressure from inanimate objects (and in the case of the Crockabilly that also extend to animate ones on occasion) but there was definitely a gritted teeth sort of calm and even a few jokes. Brave faced, the necessary arrangements were made and Number Two was heaved back from whence it came. In a big white van. Duly exchanged by some animate objects at Tesco Direct that even I felt able to lose my patience with, Number Three joined us for its maiden adventure.
Which comprised copying Number Two. At which point I started talking in capital letters whilst trying to control my wobbly bottom lip while the Crockabilly tackled the floods and Con-Con searched the internet, looking for something that might prove helpful. He should have typed "why are the powers that be still picking on AJ?" into the search engine.
Clearly, all washing machines are in the employ of Him Formerly.
Yours in hope & fear, AJ
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