I knew it was only a matter of time before my dishwasher elbowed its way into the spotlight by competing with my squeaky dryer.
Yesterday I walked by and it sang out, “Blew on his hands!”
Or maybe it meant, “Blue on his hands!”
Today its trilling song was, “Ain’t it wonderful!”
Why do I always feel so out of things? I don’t want to sound as if I think there is a conspiracy brewing, but what am I to make of Ain’t it wonderful? I would love to agree that indeed it is—but I haven’t the foggiest.
I’ve always had an odd effect on appliances or machinery in my care. I won’t go so far as to say that they have always been snide to me, but surely there’s been an understated contention beneath the surface.
For example, I once owned a car whose horn blasted every time I made a right turn. Sometimes the right hand turn was unavoidable or I’d simply forget, and there went my horn. Blasting, and then it would get stuck that way, earning me glares from fellow drivers and one gas station employee in particular who thought, as I sidled up to the nearest gas pump, that I was laying on the horn from impatience. From a sense of entitlement.
Another car I was graced with liked to spring its hood open like a creepy Jack-in-the-Box at unexpected times. This was never not scary, in fact it was terrifying. But when it happened on the freeway and in the pouring rain, well, you’ll excuse me if just the memory has the power to rattle me to this day.
But about my dishwasher, what’s its story? Friend or foe? I will assume friend until I have reason to think otherwise. I once thought it might be in cahoots with my dryer but now I’m not so sure. The dryer has been oddly quiet of late, which just happens to coincide with fat cat Midge’s constant molting. Everywhere I go, clumps of black and white fur, enough to create a small kitten if I had a mind to. I don’t know what’s going on with those two, but I’m hoping my dishwasher is trying to get my attention because it wants to join forces with me.
Because honestly, I don’t think I can take one more machine turning against me.