Jessica down from university for the weekend, and, you know what students are like – a couple of bags full of laundry in urgent need of a wash. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem, but the brake servo has gone on the Cavalier – again, not a problem, as the Cavalier is still under warranty, and in any case it would been down to Mackletyne Extruded Plastics to foot the bill, it being a company car, but it did mean that Brian and to take it in to the dealership in Ware town centre.
It wouldn’t normally be a problem – things are always a little ‘go as you please’ in the Page household on Saturday mornings, with everybody just getting on and ‘doing their thing’. No problem for Ann to pop the washing in while Brian dealt with the brake servo, but for the fact that the filter, you know, the one on the bottom of the washer, down on the left, needed cleaning out. If this isn’t done with the frequency recommended by the manufacturers it can adversely affect the conditions of the warranty. Usually this is a job which Ann would would be more than happy to leave to Brian, but needs must, so Ann decided to tackle the job herself.
With a little fiddling and waggling about she got it out OK and cleaned the fluff out of it. It was putting it back in where the difficulty started. I don’t know if you know that particular machine, but if you ‘google’ the model number a whole list of complaints come up concerning ‘replacement of the filter’. And this is where Ann came unstuck. Try as she might she couldn’t get it back in and eventually one of the plastic retaining clips snapped off.
Ann was in a bit of a cleft stick – on the one hand she had Jessica breathing down her neck for something clean to put on, on the other the distinct possibility of jeopardising the washing machine’s guarantee, and subsequently the prospect of incurring the wrath of Brian.
Discretion would really have been the better part of valour at this point, but she threw caution to the wind and shoved the filter back in, clip or no clip. The machine appeared to be working fine and she gave it no further thought.
Brian came back from the town centre with a concessionary car and proposed a pizza, so they got in the car, Jessica less than happy to be wearing the same outfit she arrived in last night, and Brian drove them into Ware.
A thick crust tomato, mozerella and pineapple pizza did wonders for Jessica’s mood down at Pizza Express and the Page’s came home in a joyous mood, only to discover a lake of soapy water making it’s way from under the utility room door, across the kitchen floor and saturating the fitted carpet in the lounge/diner.
Joy turned to dismay, and as quickly to anger. The filter had been pushed clean out of the washing machine by the sheer force of ALL the water from a Full Wash cycle (programme number five).
Brian was once again pretty livid and Ann wasn’t best pleased herself. Jessica beat a hasty retreat to her room, only to be called back downstairs immediately by Ann as the mopping-up operation began.
As luck would have it, earlier that week Ann had taken advantage of an offer in the local Co-op, and for £4.25 had purchased a bucket and ‘squeegee mop’ – one of the ones with a lever on the handle so that you can squeeze the mop out into the bucket. It proved to be a godsend and, in the time it took Brian to go next door, explain the problem and ask to borrow their Henry vacuum cleaner (the one that sucks up water), the excess water had been mopped up and poured down the drain.
With a little fiddling and waggling about she got it out OK and cleaned the fluff out of it. It was putting it back in where the difficulty started. I don’t know if you know that particular machine, but if you ‘google’ the model number a whole list of complaints come up concerning ‘replacement of the filter’. And this is where Ann came unstuck. Try as she might she couldn’t get it back in and eventually one of the plastic retaining clips snapped off.
Ann was in a bit of a cleft stick – on the one hand she had Jessica breathing down her neck for something clean to put on, on the other the distinct possibility of jeopardising the washing machine’s guarantee, and subsequently the prospect of incurring the wrath of Brian.
Discretion would really have been the better part of valour at this point, but she threw caution to the wind and shoved the filter back in, clip or no clip. The machine appeared to be working fine and she gave it no further thought.
Brian came back from the town centre with a concessionary car and proposed a pizza, so they got in the car, Jessica less than happy to be wearing the same outfit she arrived in last night, and Brian drove them into Ware.
A thick crust tomato, mozerella and pineapple pizza did wonders for Jessica’s mood down at Pizza Express and the Page’s came home in a joyous mood, only to discover a lake of soapy water making it’s way from under the utility room door, across the kitchen floor and saturating the fitted carpet in the lounge/diner.
Joy turned to dismay, and as quickly to anger. The filter had been pushed clean out of the washing machine by the sheer force of ALL the water from a Full Wash cycle (programme number five).
Brian was once again pretty livid and Ann wasn’t best pleased herself. Jessica beat a hasty retreat to her room, only to be called back downstairs immediately by Ann as the mopping-up operation began.
As luck would have it, earlier that week Ann had taken advantage of an offer in the local Co-op, and for £4.25 had purchased a bucket and ‘squeegee mop’ – one of the ones with a lever on the handle so that you can squeeze the mop out into the bucket. It proved to be a godsend and, in the time it took Brian to go next door, explain the problem and ask to borrow their Henry vacuum cleaner (the one that sucks up water), the excess water had been mopped up and poured down the drain.
1 comment:
this is among the most entertaining pieces of boringness. please please do more escapades of the page family, eric. :-)
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