Maybe it's last week's Super Moon.
Maybe it's Doña Chayo's ghost creating a little mischief.
Or maybe my house is in cahoots with Murphy's Law.
You be the judge.
About two weeks ago, my refrigerator started making funny noises. You know when you're trying to start a car? You put your key in the ignition, you turn it and the engine starts making that noise like it's going to turn over at any moment, but then it doesn't. That's exactly what my refrigerator was doing.
The electricity in my kitchen hasn't been the greatest since a little neighbor boy knocked my meter off our outside wall. So, I unplugged the fridge and tried a different socket, somehow hoping that the other sockets had more juice. But they didn't. If anything, they had less! My fridge was now completely silent.
After talking to a repairman, we learned that it would be cheaper to buy a new fridge. Okay, fine. Not a problem. We'll just buy a new one. I've secretly wished for one since we moved into our house.
Oh, if only it were that easy! You see, I want a bigger fridge with a big freezer that I don't have to defrost every month. I mean, I have a lot to do as it is. Why add more tedious work to my already long list of chores? But Hubby wants a smaller fridge. A much smaller fridge. Like the kind you would keep in a dorm room. His argument is that we rarely have leftovers and that we only need a fridge to keep milk and various condiments cold.
It's been two weeks and we still haven't come to an agreement.
Now you're all probably scratching your heads, wondering "What the heck does any of this have to do with your house hating you?"
Nothing. YET! My fridge dying was an isolated incident. It could have happened at anytime. And Hubby and I disagreeing on what kind of fridge to buy is just a difference of opinion. (Which will soon be resolved, because I've called in an expert mediator - my suegra!)
Now that Spring has arrived and the weather has warmed and my health improved, I have been extremely busy attacking the never ending pile of dirty clothes. It's a constant battle. But for the first time in I don't know how long, I was finally conquering Mount Washmore. Just yesterday morning, I was
My washing machine has been a faithful servant for seven and a half years. It was the first appliance we bought when we rented this house. Occasionally it would act up, but never something a Fonzie fist tap couldn't fix. (Eyyyy!)
Yesterday afternoon, I thought I would get a head start on washing the kiddies' uniforms. They get to wear normal clothes on Wednesdays, so us moms can wash the uniforms midweek, thus preventing the kiddies from smelling like sweat and dirt at the end of the week.
The washing machine filled itself with water. I added soap, poured fabric softener into the little dispenser and closed the lid. Nothing happened. I checked the dial to make sure I had turned the washing machine on. Nothing. I gave it a Fonzie fist tap. Still nothing. I lifted the lid and was about to press the switch do-hickey that the latch on the lid presses into to start the wash cycle and it wasn't there. It was nowhere to be found. Without that do-hickey, my washing machine doesn't work.
I just about died. Why was this happening to me?
I can survive without a fridge. After all, suegra lives 3 doors down. I can use hers. But live without my "modern" washing machine? I can't do it. I refuse to do it. We're a family of six, we produce massive amounts of dirty clothes. Everyday. Why now? Why this week? Why did it have to break just when I was a couple of loads shy of conquering Mount Washmore? Why?
And that's when it hit me.
It's the house! My house hates me! And it is slowly eliminating my allies.
My house may have won a couple of battles, but this war is far from over.