Monday morning arrives and carrying on with the tradition I was used to it means laundry day. I have tried washing a load everyday but find it aggravating and tiring, I would much rather have laundry only on one day even if it means there is a mountain of laundry that needs to be done, because then I can go about the rest of my week blissfully free of that chore.
This morning when I opened the washer I was greeted with dog hair. Sailor had decided to wash his dog's blanket and the result wasn't pretty for my washer. He helped me clean it up while I gave him a few tips on how to successfully wash the blanket next time with out gunking up the machine.
Growing up with five younger brothers there was more than one time the washing machine became interesting. Especially as they grew older and didn't always think things through.
The memory that comes to mind is of one young man, being hopelessly in love, wanting his black wool hat to look like new to impress his young maiden. While Mom's back was turned the hat made it's way into the washing machine, where much to his dismay instead of a beautiful black hat emerging from the soapy water, the water turned black and the hat turned into a soggy mess that resembled a blanket much more than a hat. He scooped it out of the water and was stuffing it into the furnace just as Mom came back.
He did get a new black hat, and somehow I never did find out if it impressed his young maiden. I'm guessing she was much more enthused seeing the person wearing the hat, than the hat itself