In which the washer and technology fall in love and make rice babies.

Let me explain the baggy and note from my husband:  Saturday we spent a lot of time doing chores away from our house. 

Also, my super power (let's assume I'm a superhero) would be the ability to smell. everything. 

ok, I think you're ready for the story now.

I woke up Saturday and the sheets smelt like death. No big deal, right? Wrong!  

Seriously! 

a dead person crept in my bed, late in the night, 

and cuddled up in the very fibers of the sheets...  

what a lovely scent, no?

That's what you get when the husband works with dead people.  

Anyway, back to the "Lindsey's mistake... again"

remember this post?

If you don't... you should know, I like to clean things.  

Often times, these "things" are "things" that I really shouldn't be cleaning in the first place. 

But, sheets... they are on the "ok to clean" list. I checked.  

When I finally got that husband of mine out of bed I ripped the sheets off, wadded 'em up into a giant ball and didn't give it a second thought as I dropped it all into the washing machine.  

Full load! 

Bleach, yes.  

Detergent, oh yes. 

Start 

and walk away.

  

We went on with the day and got a lot of things done.  Nothing of his Med school application, but lots of other very important things, done (I think they were important... maybe).

When we got home I grabbed that giant sheet ball and tossed it into the dryer.  

That's when I heard it.  

thud

thud 

THUD 

THUD!

what the...  sheets can't be that loud...

and sure enough, it wasn't the sheets.  

Dear iPod Touch,

My dearest iPod, you always played all the best songs.  Your collection spanned years of hits and timeless classics.  Your music was far better than the new stuff on my iPhone.  (Forget her, she will never have the taste that you and I have.)  You were diverse, cultured....  You could never be replaced. So loyal.  Always waking me up on time for work every morning. 

We spent every night together over the last five years.  Sometimes, I would fall asleep to your voice.  Some nights it was your soft light and the time passing that helped me focus on getting to bed.  You tracked the countdown to my wedding date.  Every year you countdown the days to Christmas.  You even adjusted to the new guy in our bed.  

Lately, I would sneak you under my pillow before we would eventually call it a night.  So, you should know, this is my fault.  

I'm very sorry that you went for a swim. Oh my dearest iPod, can you ever forgive me?  I hope that your new found love... the rice bag, helps you come back to the land of the living.  

I am so sorry.  Get well soon.  I'm really pulling for you to make a full recovery! 

Sincerely, 

Lindsey