A Day In The Life: How Should I Know Why The Dryer Is Spinning Backwards?

There are moments in any marriage when,

no matter how much you love your partner,

and I definitely do adore Harold,

with every inch of my heart,

and soul,

but still,

there are those moments,

when you just want to order a doghouse  from Amazon,

and put his stereo

and bedding

in it,

and lock the balcony door.

Feeding time six am and six pm.

In our marriage,

such moments,

thank heavens few and far between,

usually have to do with:

math-

ie being able to remember any number in any situation known to man,

but not being able to remember….

sorry.

private.

Not that I don’t have my little whims,

all adorable, of course,

that drive him up a wall-

like the day he looked at me,

clearly at the end of his rope,

shook his head,

and asked

I love you, but Whhhyyy did I have to marry an ARRRRTTTIIIIISSST?

Hey, I can do plumbing, wallpapering.

It’s not like I’m Van Gogh, already.

Although there is something about sunflowers that….

No, actually,

living in two completely different worlds is totally fascinating.

And complementary.

Usually.

Like discussing literature with a mathematician

gets you a whole different view on the world.

And even though what they bring as ideas

is nothing like the stringent training of a comparative literature person,

they are stringent in their own way,

mathematically speaking,

which I actually find quite fascinating.

The actual problem comes up,

you see,

when you ask a simple question,

like why the dryer is spinning backwards,-

and whether such a situation is:

lethal,

lethal to the neighbors,

lethal to the next generation,

of interest to NASA and the CIA,-

by whom and how it gets fixed,

and you get a discussion on:

spin points,

plus and minus poles,

the function of momentum,

the opinion of Feynman

and the FDA

on the manufacturing

and care of

machinery

that could be converted into either

a rocket launcher,

of the giant slingshot type,

or a small atom smasher,

hopefully useful for walnuts

and peas for pea soup.

You get the picture.

And all of the above taking place while sitting on a dryer,

trying to reach the plug at the back

while holding it away from the side wall,

with outstretched feet.

Although this wasn’t the first time something like this happened to me.

I once was given a clock in the form of a cat,

a tiger, actually,

for graduation,

since I was going to a school with a Bengal tiger

as a mascot.

The cat ran great,

tail swishing,

eyes opening and closing,

till our Airedale decided the clicking noise it was making

was identical to that of those ””’*****

(copyright Charles Schulz?)

birds always on the lawn in the morning.

Which it was her job to stop.

Which I assume was why she jumped onto the basin,

grabbed the cat clock

shook it twice,

and threw it away.

Right into the toilet.

No problem, I thought.

Just a matter of a quick unplug,

drying off,

and maybe a little readjustment,

since it hit pretty hard.

Three hours later….

The result was a Bengal

that rolled its eyes,

swished its tail,

and a clock on its stomach

that ran backwards.

Which meant that….

Hey,

just a moment.

Harold….

did you by any chance

decide to repair,

improve,

or study,

the dryer for some reason?

Harold….?

copyright Dunnasead.co 2016