Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Death by boxer shorts averted!

I am happy to report that my dryer has made a complete recovery, but not before we had to stare death in the face. Here are the exciting events.


As of Monday, the heap of dirty, smelly laundry in the laundry room had grown to epic proportions. It had ceased being a pile and was moving into the category of county landmark. "Just drive 'bout a mile 'til ya get to Stench Hill, then turn left. Roll down yer windas and ya cain't miss it."


Yesterday, when I opened the laundry room door, I swear I saw movement in the heap. Now, I'm not normally paranoid (much), but I have taken a microbiology class and I've read enough Steven King novels to know what was going on in there. In the midst of that composting laundry was a regular microbial convention, and they were plotting evil in their little black hearts. Just imagine a bunch of bacteria with greasy hair, shifty eyes, and black pinstripe suits, and you'll get the picture.


I could imagine the headlines:


Family of Six Found Murdered by Mysterious, Malodorous Laundry Beast.



The death of six family members continues to puzzle local investigators. No trauma was apparent on the bodies, police say, and the only evidence found at the scene was a pair of boys' SquareBob Spongepants boxer shorts, a muddy crew sock, and a pair of women's jeans with the size label cut out. Witnesses say they saw a large BigFoot type creature walking away from the home. Neighbor Rufus "Junior" Spitoon reported, "It was kind of all covered up in clothes, sort of like someone had just stood up inside a pile of laundry. And did it STINK! We could smell it all the over here at our place. My son said it smelled like the inside of Josh Tubbs' basketball shoes." Police believe the family may have been asphyxiated by the odor.



Well, I wasn't going to let a bunch of punk bacteria get away with that. Besides, what if they left behind one of my pairs of jeans with the size label still intact?! I shudder at the thought. So I made a trip to the nearest laundromat and spent half of our kids' college funds getting those clothes clean and dry. (Why is hot air so expensive?) I could almost hear the bacteria mafia screaming as they realized I had thwarted their plans.


When I got home, the dryer parts had arrived. Tonight, I am listening to the sound of a humming dryer, music to my ears. But I still don't trust my boys' boxer shorts.

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