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Blissfully quiet, the new washing machine is spinning my formerly dirties at 1000 rpm's. Unlike its predecessor, it does not shake the floor, nor does it sound like a jet engine when it runs.
At 5:16 yesterday afternoon, Dennis left a message on our voicemail, letting me know that Bosch had agreed verbally to replace the washer, and he was just waiting for computer authorization to do so. He hoped to be able to deliver it Saturday. Ten minutes later, he called back and I answered. "Dennis, you're my favorite person!" He laughed. "Well, if you like me now, you're gonna love me in a minute. Do you want it tomorrow?"
I've never said yes to anything that quickly before. He asked if I'd be home. I told him I was at his disposal. He suggested I could use the waiting time to sort my whites and colors. I said it might just take me that long.
Second load is going in the dryer in just a moment. Life is good.
When did I become such a grownup that a washing machine makes me this happy?
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