Family life

My friend the washing machine

I’d like you to meet my friend the washing machine.

We spend alot of time together – meeting up at least once a day, sometimes twice.

It’s a bit of a one sided relationship. She (it has to be a she doesn’t it?) works very hard for me, but I don’t do much for her.

She stands patiently beside the washing basket all day. And never complains when it’s overflowing all over her.

She carefully holds the ironing basket – also usually overflowing. The only time she’s not so careful with it is when she goes into a spin. Then the ironing basket sometimes ends up on the floor.

She even entertains Alisi, providing a visual feast of soap suds and wet washing whirring around and around and around.

She usually works a split shift. Starting work first thing in the morning and often not finishing until 10 o’clock at night.

And all I do for her is clean out her pump filter every now and then.

The only time she complains is when Alisi’s Daddy gives her too much soap. We get a bit of frothing at the mouth then.

Poor washing machine – don’t give up on me. I don’t know what I’d do without you!