In my daily routine, I try to do as much as I can. I visit my dad and I've helped him settle into his new home. It's not been an easy task because despite his years, he didn't have much of an idea about what he describes as woman things. Now by that he means housework, kitchen appliances and general household chores. Old-fashioned he may be, and certainly a male chauvenist by today's standards but that's just the way the elder generation are and I accept that he means no malice.
I arranged delivery of a washer/dryer. His kitchen is very small and it really was the best option. I got a pretty good deal -- so good that it puts my own washing machine to shame! I think the only thing it does not do is get the dirty clothes itself and iron. There are so many different knobs and settings, mine only has two, that I stood scratching my head wondering which one did what!
I didn't have much time between rushing around for my hubby and daughter and then returning the clock, which I'm sure by now you all know about. My dad asked me if I could help him sort the washing, he was running out of certain clothing. I quickly read through the manual, stuffed all the clothes in the drum, twiddled some knobs and then switched on. I made my farewell, dashing off to collect my daughter from work (she finally got herself a little term break job) and then continued home where I arrived to a ringing phone which I missed because I couldn't get through the door fast enough!
There were several messages on my answerphone, mostly nothing much but sales people trying to sell me something I didn't need, want or ever would use, and then there was dad!
"That washing machine's still going round," he said!
I rang him back to explain that it takes a couple of hours to go through the programmes and especially as it dries them as well, he'd need to be patient. I went about my normal evening and the phone rang again around 6pm.
"It's still going," said this rather worried voice
"Dad, it will stop soon!" I said reassuringly. "Don't worry."
My hubby decided to go out for a pizza, so we left about 6.30. I was a bit worried about my dad, hoping he wouldn't try and force the door open on the machine, he's done that before! I rang him from my mobile.
"It's still going -- I'm going to pull the plug out"
"Leave it another half hour and then see if stops, if not pull the plug out then."
We arrived home around 10 and I had a message on the phone.
"It's stopped now love, and I'm going to bed."
My dad rang this morning at 7.30 -- I cracked up!
"You should see my clothes, they've shrunk. My shirts would fit Action Man, my trousers are at half mast, I think they were on too long!"
Trying not to laugh I said I would go round this afternoon. I don't know what I can do about it but I have visions of my dad standing there with a shirt half way up his torso and trousers up to his knees. Too much to bare I think and I'm sorry but I will be in fits of laughter!
Trust me to make an absolute mess of things, just when he was beginning to think I was the clone of my mum -- she never shrank anything in the wash and her shirts were always crisp and clean. I bet my mum is laughing somewhere. My dad certainly will not!