At first we thought the automatic clothes washer was content to simply swallow hosiery, laughing cruelly as members of the household tried to match one Argyle diamond with one Mickey Mouse sock. Then it began attacking lingerie, forcing us to improvise with paper towel and Saran.
But now, it has moved on to savage attacks on all manner of garments; it has become the Ferocious Fabric Fiend. In these haunted precincts, it is known as "the Ripper."
We are now using a washboard, left over from our days with the Grand Ole Opry, and a dented basin picked up at a neighborhood yard sale.
Cleanliness may be next to Godliness--but not with the Ripper. We pray it will not soon begin roaming the apartment, seeking new victims in dresser drawers and closets.
At least you could reason with HAL 2000.
No comments:
Post a Comment