Washing Machine

Our washing machine broke down over the weekend. It just stopped working mid-cycle, and gave off an ominous smell of burning. This was a particular problem because G was almost out of clean vests, quite an achievement seeing as she has about 317 of them. So the two of us waited in today for a man to come and fix it.

I'm useless with stuff like fixing household appliances, but I usually try to cover this up in front of visiting workmen by explaining the problem as nonchalantly as possible while making them a cup of tea, hoping they can't see through my bluffing and realise I have no idea what I'm talking about. Today my attempt at sounding knowledgeable about washing machines was even more pointless than usual, because soon enough the man said there was nothing wrong with the thing, that something had probably got temporarily stuck in the pump but it all seemed to have sorted itself out. He didn't even finish his tea.

So, G's vests are now being washed. As the picture shows, she's taking a keen interest in their progress. It's difficult to know exactly what's going on inside her tiny mind at the best of times. But I wouldn't be surprised if she's pondering new ways of getting them all dirty again.