My laundry machine is on strike. Again.
Too much abuse. Not enough daily appreciation. Long unpredictable hours. Demands not in her contract…. mechanics clothing, mud clad children- or at least their attire- and good old sneaky chicken poop.
She’s been complaining for months. With a high pitched wailing and clattering like she swallowed a fleet of knights. But we already gave her a door-lock replacement a while back, and she was still trudging along, so I simply closed the laundryroom door on her loud complaints. And mentioned it to my hubby.
Sometimes random visitors, or even concerned kids would question the sounds coming from behind the closed laundry-room door. But no one truly cared THAT deeply for her well being to investigate. I occasionally feared she might give me another scare like last time. But when she keeps doin her job, you push on.
Committed, I even put up with the occasional shirt she chews on spiteful days.
Like strikes of old, however, although targeted at the adults, the children often suffer.
Lack of underwear is a grievous matter. Wearing your siblings extras? Well, they were more gracious than expected.
But the real turn of events was the children’s attitudes with hand washing a load this week.
They were estatic!
I was trying to be the voice of reason, but sounded more like Debbie Downer, trying to enlighten them that this looses its fun really fast.
They could not be swayed.
They even brought out a drum to slosh around to the beat. They sung and marched about in great pleasure. Eagerly awaiting their turn to jump in the soapy bucket.
We did a couple rinse cycles in the Rubbermaid bin before we thought of a way we could rinse and drain at the same time.
Turns out, knee drops work swell for beating the water out of the clothes as well, so that we didn’t have to wring them. They were so into it- I left them to it. And went and napped.
Just like that the clothes were ready for the dryer. The kids wanted to string them up in the yard to be finished off in the sunshine. But I figured the pounded clothes could use some fluffing after all that tromping, and we don’t have a line anyways. Furthermore, let’s not give the dryer too much idle time or she might get ideas from that naughty washer.
The kids haven’t had to borrow each-others undies for a while, and with their joyous help I think we will make it through this washer strike. At least till she gets what she wants. Then I’ll be more than happy to give her her job back and some lovely words.
It’s so easy for me to let life’s little inconveniences trouble me and let the grumbles come. But I think God cares enough about my character to give me opportunities to learn valuable lessons. Like maybe to be more like the kids with a joyous attitude to do what needs to be done. And perhaps to see more troubles as adventures and reasons to be creative.
And to season my days with a healthy heap of gratitude.
After all, sometimes you don’t know what you got- till it’s gone.