I was sitting in my family room last night around 9:00 and suddenly heard a huge whoosh and the sound of rushing water. I thought it was outside the window and I briefly wondered what my neighbors were doing. I sat there a minute, then got up to go look out. As I moved past the laundry room door, I realized the noise was coming from there. I opened the door to an erupting water fountain gushing from the back of my washer. Eeeek!!!
I tried to turn the faucet off, but it was stuck fast. I grabbed three towels from the rag bin there and threw one on the floor at the carpet edge, and another one over the water fountain, and tried again to turn the faucet off. Stuck fast! I ran to the garage and grabbed a screw driver and back in to try to use it as a lever. Stuck fast!! I ran to the kitchen to grab a pair of pliers out of the drawer and back to the gusher. All this time, the water was spewing forth all over the room, hitting the ceiling, cupboards, doors, dryer, floor… (It was about this time I started to cry.) Finally I was able to begin to budge the faucet handle. Several hard turns and it was off. I felt like a drowned rat!
It took four beach towels, three soaked rugs, sweeping water out the back door and thirty minutes of mopping before the floor tiles showed their faces. Then I called Daryl. He must have heard the despair in my voice, because he immediately assured me swapping washer hoses was an easy fix and he would come over on Saturday to help me out.
Most of the time, I do pretty well on my own, but there are a few times in life I really miss having a husband. Thank you, Daryl honey.
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I took the first picture after I had been mopping for a while. I had to post the other one taken a week ago to show I don’t always look so bedraggled.