I have lately had some trouble with my washing-machine.
All of a sudden it stopped during so I rang the service company and luckily they had some ideas. So I reset my expensive digital-washing-machine and tried again and nothing happened. So here am I with the machine filled with water and can’t get the machine emptied, or the clothes to dry. Not to mention knowing if they were clean or not?!?
After several phone-calls and several attempts to get the machine going again there finally came some good advice, open the bottom hatch to empty the water, check the sill and see if there are any loose objects stuck into it and clean the sill. Now I could open the door and get the clothes out to dry. Okay, done.
Soaking-wet clothes on a line smelling of washing detergent. Yew!
So as the bathroom-floor was soaking wet I got the clever idea of washing it.
Here my husband could tell you, that whenever I get a clever idea, it always is dangerous and almost certainly ends up in tears, in one way or another. So I began washing the floor, and me and wet floors are a lethal combination, at least to myself that is. Of course I slipped on the floor and fell. I fell with my back on top of the toilet-seat, almost instantly bruised black and blue from my ribs to my pelvis, not being able to bend at all in any direction at all.
I am so glad that my beloved husband did not laugh this time either.
Not until much later, when I laugh at it myself. Much, much later this time.
So the next morning after a long night full of agony and not enough strong painkillers, I get up and ring the service-guy once again asking about the warranty of the machine. Here tells me that it is okay but had I checked the exhaust water pipe yet?
I am so glad I did not have to bend in any direction or get down on my knees to check this out, just washed some residue out of the pipe and got the machine going and put the questionably clean clothes run through the machine one more time just to make sure...
But hey, who said the life of a housewife is easy?