As an adult you find yourself getting excited about the strangest things and your dreams take on a rather dull, realistic tone. Lately, as I lay my head on the pillow each night, visions of these guys dance through my head.
Yep, happy little heel-clicking washing machines haunt my dreams. (Or they would, if washing machines had heels.)
We bring our laundry into town to wash, usually on a weekly basis. But last week, the stars aligned only for brief dash through town to grab the gas and groceries we needed to make it through another work week. There was no time to sit around and wait for the laundry to finish a spin cycle. Now as I sort through my work clothes options, things are looking pretty grim. How I wish I could come home from work and pop a load of laundry in my very own machine. Just imagine listening to the washing machine whir quietly in the background while I fix supper and hanging the clothes out on the line to get that wonderful air-dried laundry smell.
But since, given the size of the cabin, I have a choice between a washing machine and a pantry (and I love to eat), maybe something like this is more my speed:
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to go put my pants on inside out. Maybe no one will notice. . .