Agitated By The Agitator

This afternoon was just your ordinary average day—I was doing chores around the house: sweeping, mopping, and my favorite, laundry. I really don’t like doing laundry You have to separate this, separate that, use this specific laundry detergent at certain temperatures. It can be really confusing if you don’t know what you’re doing. Fortunately, I know what I’m doing, sort of. I wash all the darks together and the whites go in a load by themselves. It’s not that difficult. Here’s where I get irritated. It’s after the washer has stopped. I had washed a load of whites and was getting ready to put them in the dryer—simple enough, right? Or, so I thought. I reached into the washer and grabbed hold of a handful of wet towels (my towels are white) and gave it a tug. (Nothing, it didn’t give at all) I pulled harder, grabbed it with my other hand and pulled so hard that once the towel broke loose, it sent me flying backwards and almost made me trip. I threw that towel into the dryer and reached in the washer again. Another towel—same result. This same routine went on for a total of four towels. I was over it. Finally, I looked into the washer to see what was causing the problem. I moved a few socks, a couple pairs of underwear out of the way and reached for the offending garment. I pulled—it pulled back. I pulled—it pulled back. By this time, I was beginning to sweat, I was beginning to swear. The cat looked at me, swooshed his tail and began to lick himself, all the while keeping any eye on me in case I fell his way. What was it? It seems that one of the MA Fat Woman’s bras had wrapped itself around the thingy in the washer that is supposed to agitate your unmentionables into submission. Well, that boulder holder wasn’t going down without a fight. It had threads from almost every item in the washer wrapped up in a big ball with the hooks sticking out of it. What a mess? At that moment the phone rang, it was my mom calling to tell me she was in Russia and wanted to know what I was doing. Fighting with the washer I said. I told you to buy that front loading washer a few months ago she said. If you would have listened to me then you wouldn’t have this problem now. Moms are always right, even six thousand miles away.