I Heart Modern Conveniences

Yes, I am now the proud owner of a working dryer.  But it was a tough road to get here, people; I won't lie to you about that.  A week of wandering around our neighborhood with wet baskets of laundry while my neighbors pretended not to be home (at least, that's what I assume); a canceled repair appointment yesterday, because the repairman was running late at his other jobs; and then, finally, this morning - 15 minutes late - he walked in my door (and into my heart).

Because I'm not just a one-serviceman type of gal, I guess...

Again, like last week, I sat upstairs listening to productive-sounding clangs and crashes.  This time, however, I spent the time plotting what to do should he tell me there was yet another part to be ordered.  I had just settled on the idea of holding the repairman hostage until it arrived, when he announced that he had indeed fixed the dryer.  He even invited me downstairs to check out how hot it was.

There's a joke there, but I'm not taking it.  I'm better than that.

It lives!

Excited, I ordered Rachel to move her wet clothes into the dryer, even as my rescuer was walking out the door.  And a good thing I did...

"Mommy! It's making a weird sound!"

"No, it's fine.  He just showed me that it works."

"No, it's weird!"

Darned if the kid wasn't right - the dryer was refusing to tumble.  Thoughts of a dryerless 3-day weekend reverberating through my panicked mind, I ran out to the parking lot, waving my arms at my former hero's departing car.  I have no dignity when it comes to laundry, apparently.  None.

Reader, that repairman is an honorable soul.  I know this, because he turned his car around and came back in the house. 

"Just a loose belt, ma'am," he reassured me, as I hovered nervously in the laundry room doorway, blocking any chance of egress on his part.  "Should be just fine now."

"Are you sure?" I asked, before I unlocked the front door to let him out.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, eyeing the exit a tad anxiously.  "Fixed her right up!"

And he had.  It works!  Don't you love happy endings?

Nutrition Alert!

According to the Los Angeles Times, "The California maker of Red Vines issued a voluntary recall of its Black Licorice Twists this week after the state’s Department of Public Health warned of high levels of lead – more than double the amount deemed healthy for children."

WHO KNEW there was an amount of food-based lead actually "deemed healthy for children"?  I'll have to check my kids' gummy vitamins to make sure they are getting their RDA.

[Image credit: LA Times]

Unwonted Sentimentality

I swear, he looked JUST LIKE THIS.

You know how you turn around one day and realize that one of your little kids - no, not just one of your little kids, but the really cute smiley one who looked like a teddy bear when he was two, the one who sat on an armchair in the living room and looked at you nursing his new-ish baby sister and asked, "Mommy STILL holding baby?" in a wistful tone of voice...

That kid - that kid is 12.  Actually, he turned 12 over 4 months ago; but I just noticed.  Just noticed there will be no more little boy smiles coming from that direction, no more simple happiness emanating from his corner of the house.  Oh, he's a pleasant enough 12-year-old, Brian is; but he's growing up.  Changes are gonna happen.

And you would think I'd be used to this by now - this letting go of the little boy to welcome the young adult, right?  I mean, he's my 4th kid to reach this milestone, for heaven's sake.  But this one...this one is hitting me hard.  I love his smile.  I dread that the teen years might rob us of that.  I've seen enough teens (mine and those of my friends) not to have any illusions about what may lie ahead.

You know, up to now, all it took were hamburgers and legos to make Brian happy.  Also? Mayonnaise.  He could eat it with a spoon.  Life's been that simple.

NOW who's sounding wistful, eh?  Sheesh, I've got to shake this off.  Remember how, in the old cartoons, there was always a character running off the cliff and it just kept right on running, because he didn't know there was nothing whatsoever really holding him up?  He would never start falling until he looked down.

Well, parenting's like that.  Keep moving and - for heaven's sake - don't look down.


[Teddy bear image: CentralSquareFlorist]
[Wiley E Coyote image: The English Blog]

Dry Me A River

The repairman showed up bright and early on Thursday and spent a good 45 minutes making productive-sounding clanking and banging noises down in the utility room where my broken dryer resides.  Then I heard him coming up the stairs and saying, "Well, I'm done!"

"That's great!" I said, running for the nearest basket of wet laundry.

"Oh, it's not fixed yet," he said.

I'm thinking that repairmen need to be trained in their bedside manner, as it were.  For example, don't use the word "DONE" unless it's "FIXED."  Is that asking too much?

Next time, I'm buying an OLD one of these.

Turns out we need a new igniter.  Because, after all, the dryer is 5 years old already (or, to be fair, it is 12 years old in appliance years, due to the volume of laundry in this house).  12 years? 

You know, at my father's house (where we stopped on our way home from our vacation), I did our leftover camping laundry in the washer/dryer he and my mom bought while I was in high school, over 30 years ago. 


Yup, that washer/dryer set has lasted more than  3 decades.  Which is WAY LONGER than 12 years.  Trust me - I did the math on this one.

So for appliance manufacturers everywhere, I have only one question:  

WTF?

Al Gore Was Right

Okay, so all week I have had the chorus of "Mad About You" stuck in my head for no reason whatsoever.  In a desperate attempt to recall the rest of the song, I searched for it today on YouTube.  Because, really, I have nothing better to do.

Belinda Carlisle?  Of The Go-Go's?  Wasn't she the wild girl of rock-and-roll back in the 80's?

So I watched the video.  I mean, it was either that or do some housework - what would you have chosen?  Here it is, from a live performance in 1988.  Just take a quick look.

Do you see what she is wearing? 

Long-sleeved jacket?  

Leggings down below her knees?  

Boobs tucked safely inside her shirt? 

I swear, most women go to the office nowadays wearing less than that.  Tell me, did we all used to walk around so well-covered?  Has modesty truly fallen by the wayside over the intervening 25 years?

Or maybe modesty isn't the issue here at all.  Maybe this is just another indicator of climate change.  Yeah, that's it, that's why she isn't prancing around up there half-naked - it was colder back then.

So next time you see some young chick walking down the street in what appears to be nothing but her underwear, don't get all judge-y, okay?  Blame global warming instead.