Here is one example:
To write this post, I first had to turn on my computer. Seems easy enough, and for most people this is a fairly easy task, but not for me. You see, my computer had run out of batteries because it had sat in it's bag for too long and I had apparently forgotten to turn it off before putting into said bag. Seeing that I am on a train at the moment (more on that later), I luckily had an available outlet just inches away from me. So I started digging for the power cord so I could plug it in...but with my husband's voice saying "plug it in fast! Fast! Or you will have to restart it again!" [She added way too many exclamation points there, I think she hears those in her head when I'm in a hurry - I'm not the crazy guy on this train, I think that guy is a few rows back.] Unfortunately I have this uncontrollable urge to rebel in a safe and non-destructive way (most of the time), so I automatically went into "slow mode" and, of course, did not make it in time. That or the computer was watching me, waiting for that very last second where my hope is high and I think I will make it...just to die and dash my hope on the cruel rocks of reality. [She would have made it if she didn't go into "slow mode"] I think it enjoys my pain. I really think it does. Of course, I think my husband is in league with the computer, because he too just sat and watched as I frantically attempted to beat the odds only to remark "too slow" when my efforts turned out to be in vain. [I was plugging in the other end of the cord into the outlet - I'm not sure why she sat waiting for it before plugging her end into the laptop] This pain was only made worse when a simple pressing of the "on" button proved useless in coaxing a start out of this blasted piece of plastic and wires. He sighed and snatched the computer from my hands - getting it to start in a matter of 1.45 seconds. [When a laptop fails to start, here's what I do (other than check that it is plugged in): unplug the power supply AND remove the battery for a few seconds, then hook everything back up. This battery was dead so just unplugging the power supply for a second was enough to reset things.] He hands it back to me with a look of "I fixed it for you AGAIN," and went back to whatever it was he was doing. I then (naturally) started thinking of ways I could make his life less desirable...heehee, I mean... I thanked him beautifully, telling him how wonderful he was and how happy I was to have him as my husband! Perhaps I need to speak soothingly to it? The computer, not the husband.
Back to breaking things... I have done it all my life. I touch something and it spontaneously combusts. Ayla has the same talent. We are destructive together. [This is why I'm training Taylor - so I have backup] So when I left my happy family to embark on a mission of house-wife-ness (err...laundry) the other day, I was not at all surprised when I opened the dryer to discover damp (but slightly warm) clothes and a dryer that sounded like a cat being strangled by spaghetti when I attempted to restart it.
I glumly walked back to the living room to spread the doom of a broken dryer... You see, one of our old beat-up cars had died just the day before, and I did NOT have anything to do with that. My joy in not being the one to brake [break] something we owned had been sweet...and so, so short. But as I looked into my livingroom at the happy scene before me: Kids playing, music blaring - and my 100% contented husband, sitting at the kitchen table surrounded by rocket toys...err...tools [It was the parts for the new rotary axis on my CNC router] and looking so entirely happy, I just couldn't do it. That and I wanted to savor the whole "I didn't break it this time" moment. So I went off for a bit and folded what laundry I had already dryed.
But sadly, such joy could not last, as we had two loads of clothes that needed to be dried... and soon. So once I got the nerve up, I marched into the living room, head held high and stated "Have I ever told you how good you are at fixing things?" to my wonderful and amazing husband. Now, I would think that the automatic answer to this should have been. "Thank you! You are such an encouraging wife." But no, he sighed (Again with the sighing!) And said "what did you break?"
[I'm pretty sure I didn't blame her for this. You see, I was expecting something to break. I woke up that morning thinking about the car with the blown head gasket and had an unnerving feeling that the car wasn't the end of it. It was a toss up between the refrigerator, the dishwasher, or the microwave. (expect a future post on one of these) I didn't think about the dryer - I guess that's what you get for worrying in the kitchen instead of the laundry room.]
I was blamed for it. I have an impeccable memory. Even if I cannot spell "impeccable" right (without the aid of spell check). Where is the trust I ask? Where is the trust! [Actually, I may have had a look on my face. More on that in a minute...]
"I did not break anything." I clearly stated."But the dryer wont start...."
So we marched back to the hallway together. He tried it. I think he was half-expecting it to start just fine for him (or for it to be miraculously healed just because he laid hands on it). It has happened. I'm not joking here. I wish I was, but no - I've seen it. The same strangled cat sound came loud and clear. "I think the belt is broken." he claimed confidently. His 12 seconds [it was 4 seconds] standing in front of the dryer and hearing it speak had made it all clear I guess... And he was right. He made sure to remind me after he opened it up that he had said that the belt was broken
[I knew it was the belt because when I tried to start it. The motor spun but sounded like it was spinning freely (no load on it). It does this for a second or two, then stops. This dryer, and I imagine a lot of others, has a safety feature that stops the dryer if it isn't spinning. I'm glad - otherwise we might have had half a load of damp clothes on top of a layer of charred clothes.
Back to that look: I have mentioned that overly full washers and dryers would wear out faster. Just imagine that skinny dryer belt trying to turn a drum packed so full that you can see the rivets popping out at the seams... stress fractures forming in its walls as that last sock gets stuffed in and the door is slammed shut... OK, I may be exaggerating, but still... FULL!]
As I said before, I break things... all the time. I am very happy and truly thankful that I can come home from taking the girls to gymnastics and discover it has all been taken care of while I was away (though I will admit being a little sad that I no longer had an excuse not to do laundry).
I must add one thing here though. I think he is messing with my head (he gets joy out of it). I swear, last week the dyer door opened from the side closest to the wall. [the left] Now that it is fixed, the door opens from the other side. [right...] He claims that he knows nothing about it, but it is true! He is messing with me! I know it and I personally think that is mean. I may not be able to fix things like he can, and I may get confused as to which side is my right and which is my left, but I KNOW that it is different! It is, it is!
I think... :P
I just realized I never got back to the whole "on a train" thing. I would like to proudly say, that the train worked perfectly the whole time I was aboard. [She was busy booting her computer up for the second time] Perhaps there is hope yet?
[Quick link to a video for anyone else that hears that "strangled cat sound." This video is intense - it is not suitable for expectant mothers or people with:
- Heart or Blood Pressure Conditions
- Back or Neck Injuries
- Motion Sickness or Dizziness
- Sensitivity to Strobe Lights
- Arm or Leg Casts
- Recent Surgery or Easily Aggravated Conditions
Also, be aware that the grease on the idler pulley is red. If you pull your hand out and it looks like it is covered in blood - you do not really need stitches... unless your grease is another color, in which case I'd consult your physician or the nearest emergency room.]
