Clean

When we moved here, the washing machine had a note on it with instructions. "Use 1/2-cup liquid detergent. Leave all settings alone!" Apparently, the previous owners discovered the one way for the machine to work. So for the past three years, our clothes have been the clean-equivalent of a five-minute cold shower with hotel soap.

Until today. Now we have a front-loader with numerous settings plus the ability to use hot water, something the previous washer couldn't do. I also specifically bought one with a sanitation setting, which is an internal heater that jacks up the water's temperature for shirts so clean they squeak.

With a baby coming, there will be days when we have something so steeped in biohazards that we could either bring it to the yard, light a match, and watch it explode into a methane fireball, or we could sanitize it. I'm so excited that I sort of feel like Danny Tanner, only with Uncle Jesse's coolness and Joey's hilarity. (Oh come on now: Cut! It! Out!)

Also, the door is glass, so you can watch everything. It reminds me of my grandma's house when I was little. I would watch a mug of hot chocolate turn and turn and turn on the microwave rotating plate, all the while horrified that I wouldn't be able to finish it since I didn't really like it that much anyway.

"Daniel, don't you like your hot chocolate?"

"Yes Grandma, I love it so much! [Chug chug scald scald gag]"

Anyway, laundry is much more fun to watch. The spin cycle is wicked fast. And the best thing is that our sewage line is fixed, so the small amount of water this thing uses will not cause our laundry's drain to burp fetid putrescence. All in all, morale is quite high.