We bought a used dryer in September and it died on us this week. Of course, of the three people doing laundry in this house, my wet clothes were in it during its last stuttering, gasping, puttering-out attempt at a cycle. And now, thanks to a combination of an unfixable dryer and my lack of motivation to go elsewhere, there are two wet piles of clothes in the kitchen. And its beginning to smell a lot like mildew.
Rest in peace, crappy Whirlpool. Thanks for your short-lived laundry service, I hope there is a place for you up there in home appliance heaven.
The picture is intended for Elijah, who I discovered running around my house with my still-not-dry Hanes granny panties inside-out on his head.
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