The Colours of Me

Forget Ken the Serviceman. 

My new knight in shining whiteware is Dave. He arrived this morning with a loaner washing machine.

I practically fell out the door in my eagerness, pulling a groin muscle in the process.

"I'm so pleased to see you," I cried as I hobbled towards the gate.

"Oh," said Dave with a huge smile, "not many women say that to me."

I didn't like to say that I was actually talking to the washing machine.

"So your laundry has been building up, huh?" said Dave.

"Nope," I said. "I've been hand washing ... and wringing."

"Really?" Dave seemed surprised.

"Yes," I said. "Everything but the towels. I told the towels that they're to stay in the bathroom and be reused until they could walk themselves to the laundry."

I didn't really tell him what I said to the towels. But I kinda thought that if jackets can move by themselves then towels must be able to as well.

The loaner washing machine was installed and my Bosch removed.

"Now!" I said. "I'm a wash-a-holic. I hope this machine can cope with the work."

I must have had my stern face on because I saw a flicker of fear in Dave's eyes.

"Sure," he said. "You do as much as you want with it."

Aww ... what a man!

He did mention that it wasn't as big as what I'm used to.

*twinkle*

You can just imagine the replies that whizzed through my brain in that split second. 

But I remained ladylike and said, "He's perfect."

And all day long, I've been in laundry heaven.

This is what our towels smelt like!

*chuckle*