Wash in Peace, My Friend

I live by this motto: I'll just ignore it and it will go away.

That's right; I treat every annoyance in my life like a bee.

But today, when the Sears repairman asked me, "How long ago did your washer start sounding like a 747?" I had to face reality. At first, I told him a couple months. But he kept questioning me, so I confessed like a guilty child.

"It might have been last summer."

I wondered if I was about to get scolded for not flossing, too.

Turns out the washer was sick. Real sick. In fact, there's no hope for it. (Well, technically there is, but we could buy three new washing machines for the amount it would cost to fix this one and, frankly, I'm not that attached.)

I like appliance shopping about as much as I enjoy pulling a waxy string between my teeth, but the thought of not having a washer is the worst. With three dogs and a spitting crawler, that loud thing has been running all day, every day. I just shut the door so I didn't have to listen to it.

I hope we can get a shiny new one right away. I don't like the idea of traipsing to a laundromat with a squirming 9-month-old. I don't even know where one is.

Meantime, I'm thinking about getting a new motto.

Any ideas?