Anyone want to join me in a good laugh?
You know the kind -- a good, in-the-gut, knock your head back guffaw; a breathless, eye-watering, slap-your-thigh chortle; a maniacal, slightly disturbing, eye-popping cackle; a screeching wail that is a cross between a shriek and a yowl that might be heard from a wild animal...
The dryer went out. Permanently.
Isn't that a riot?
Yes, yes -- we've been hanging out our laundry. But do you know how long it takes clothes to dry hanging on a line outside in Virginia in December? And do you know what they feel like if you don't at least "finish them off" for a five-minute spin in the dryer? And do you know that it's supposed to rain all week long?
Anyone care to join me in a huge explosion of laughter, because you can? Because of me you can walk outside and know that a huge tank penetrating the wall between dimensions will not mow you down because the odds of that happening to anyone are one in infinity, but the odds of it happening here in Linguiniland are one in about three. Breath with relief knowing that if lightening is going to strike, it will strike here; if a hammer from the space station enters the earth's atmosphere, it will fall here in a fiery ball; if someone tells you "when hell freezes over," well -- you know now where to bring that side of beef.
So we've adjusted the way we refer to Heir 1. He is now the son that lives in the basement -- with the dogs -- and the wet laundry.
NOTE: We do have a gas dryer in storage that we will be using as soon as we can get a propane tank installed.
*One of the best taglines I've ever heard, courtesy of Linda Ellerbee.