CAUGHT!
So today, I came home and tossed in a load of laundry. As some of you know, I've done more than my fair share of laundry in the past two weeks, so this is nothing new. I put my clothes in, set the dials, poured in the soap, and went upstairs to bust out my personal statement for my grad school app (which, btw, i totally finished today - hooray!).
Approximately 40 minutes later, desperate for a break from my personal statement writing, I go to switch my laundry. I reach in and grab some clothes and feel a strange tug on them coming from the other end. Excuse me? Assuming they must just be tangled together, I start from another side of the washer. I manage to extract every single wet clothing item from the washer except one pair of sweatpants (side note, why are they called a "pair" of pants when there is only one?). I tug and tug, but those suckers aren't moving.
I assume they've somehow become wound around the bottom of the washer, so I reach my hands down there and start to feel around. With no small effort, I can pry the center washer-thinger up a few millimeters, but that does absolutely nothing to free my beloved sweatpants.
THE SOCK MONSTER STRIKES AGAIN! Only this time, he got a little overzealous and moved through the clothing alphabet from socks to sweatpants. Great. I give up and start the dryer, sans sweatpants, text my roommates to inform them that the washing machine ate my clothes, and continue on with my homework, content to leave my half-eaten lounge wear for a few months until we move out. Lucky for my sweatpants, my roommate is much more MacGyver-like (looked up the spelling on that one, still not sure if it's right) than me and she managed to free them. Assuming they survive a romp in the dryer, they will be ready for me to wear to bed in just a few moments.
This picture has absolutely nothing to do with this post, but I always love it when people post pictures in their entries so here's a little memory from my trip to Mazatlan last December:
Approximately 40 minutes later, desperate for a break from my personal statement writing, I go to switch my laundry. I reach in and grab some clothes and feel a strange tug on them coming from the other end. Excuse me? Assuming they must just be tangled together, I start from another side of the washer. I manage to extract every single wet clothing item from the washer except one pair of sweatpants (side note, why are they called a "pair" of pants when there is only one?). I tug and tug, but those suckers aren't moving.
I assume they've somehow become wound around the bottom of the washer, so I reach my hands down there and start to feel around. With no small effort, I can pry the center washer-thinger up a few millimeters, but that does absolutely nothing to free my beloved sweatpants.
THE SOCK MONSTER STRIKES AGAIN! Only this time, he got a little overzealous and moved through the clothing alphabet from socks to sweatpants. Great. I give up and start the dryer, sans sweatpants, text my roommates to inform them that the washing machine ate my clothes, and continue on with my homework, content to leave my half-eaten lounge wear for a few months until we move out. Lucky for my sweatpants, my roommate is much more MacGyver-like (looked up the spelling on that one, still not sure if it's right) than me and she managed to free them. Assuming they survive a romp in the dryer, they will be ready for me to wear to bed in just a few moments.
This picture has absolutely nothing to do with this post, but I always love it when people post pictures in their entries so here's a little memory from my trip to Mazatlan last December:
Comments
Love the photo.
LOVE, DAD
Oh, and along side why are pants plural...why are panties plural and bra singular??