The definition of a frustrating morning: (In which I hang my head in utter shame!!!)

The day starts just dandy.

You wake feeling *mostly* rested.

You make breakfast for the kids and realize they're really rather pleasant today.

You vow to not even touch the computer until your house is totally in order. Enough is ENOUGH!!

You throw a load of laundry in the washer and do a little jig and sing a little ditty that you're caught up on laundry.

You clean the kitchen till it sparkles and decide to go throw the load of laundry into the dryer.

{it should be done by now since you were side tracked by a lovely chat with your most favorite sister}

You gingerly begin to pull the clothes out of the washer once again doing a little jig and singing a little ditty

{which is really quite fancy while reaching into the washer at the same time!!}

You refuse to admit that these clothes do not seem as dry as they usually are when coming out of the washer and instead continue

pulling more out and putting them into the dryer.

You finally cave after putting half the load into the dryer and realize something is just not right here!

You figure you must have stopped it before it's final spin so you throw them all back into the washer and turn it back on.

And then you hear it: A noise that makes your heart stop and your head spin as you realize the washer isn't working and there's

NO money for any repairs or *replacing it*

-loud SHRIEK from stage left-

You have (what you believe to be) a lightbulb moment and decide to just start the load again. 'What could it hurt?' You'd at least

know if it's just the spin cycle that isn't working.

You wait *somewhat* patiently while the washer fills again with water only to find that "the noise" begins as soon as the washer

is full and no "washing" happens!

You try and try and try again to get the silly thing to at least drain the majority of the water out so you can then ring the clothes

out by hand.

You loose approximately 20 minutes of your "productive" day using a large measuring bowl to scoop out most of the water.

You ring out the clothes by hand while having flashbacks of your days in Argentina washing all of your clothes by hand

{I think they call it Post Traumatic Stress!!} and wonder why this couldn't have been a load of undies instead of jeans and other

heavy clothes!

You find some rope to make a clothesline outside. They may or may not be totally clean, but you don't want them sitting wet all day long!

You move the car since it is sitting in the only place you found to hang the line.

You get a chair and hang the line.

You pound your chest and roar feeling like you're at least a resourceful wife/mother taking care of the needs of her family.

You hang most of the clothes on the line only to have the rope snap and your "clean" clothes fall on the driveway. Nice!

You pick up the clothes and carry the basket inside since by now you hear your 2 yr old screaming his ever loving head off because

he thinks you've left.

{And what child wouldn't?! You've been MIA for over an hour with this whole ordeal!}

You calm the kid and carry the (very heavy) basket out to the deck.

You hang the clothes up on the railing, over chairs and anywhere else the sun is hitting hoping they'll dry ok.

You realize you're the world's BIGGEST MORON because the washer is the one that's broken...the dryer is working just fine!

AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

Can I crawl out from under the bed now?!