Mr. Fix-It

This is my husband.

This is my dryer.

They have a close, personal relationship. You see, we have fixed our $37.50 appliance five or six times since we bought it five years ago. This last time was a real mystery that lasted 2 weeks. No, I'm not complaining about two weeks without a dryer. I did complain actually, until I found out that my neighbor has been without a dryer for like a year because theirs is gas and they only take electric dryers here in the fine apartments that are The Reflections at Cherry Creek. But I digress. Not really actually...part of my complaint (before I was not complaining) was how the management responded to my drying dilemma. You see, I had put off doing laundry long enough that I had quite a stock pile of loaded laundry baskets. It was a Tuesday, I decided to start with our bedding. When I discovered our dryer problem (running but not heating) I had wet sheets and a wet mattress pad. Those mattress pads take forever to dry in the dryer. It was a hot day, so I ran a string from my upstairs neighbor's porch to the fence. Granted, this was a very obtrusive way to dry sheets. But I hung the pillow cases over the actual walkway, so people just had to duck a little. (This explanation is taking a long time, hope you're in it for the long haul...)

The manager, Kim, was out walking the grounds with the guy who is really in charge. They were discussing this I hope:


See how much they care about us? This non-grass area that should be a lush carpet of water sucking Kentucky Blue Grass translates into a lot of dirty clothes in the last year. Sometimes multiple changes of dirty clothes in one day. Digression again. So, apparently they were discussing the situation. I'm assuming Kim was mortified by my use of string because she walked on over to me (I was out with the kids and our neighbor and her kids) and informed me that we're not allowed to hang laundry here. Not worried about the "grass" though. Or at least she hasn't been for the last year. Anyway...back to the dryer:

My amazing husband finally figured out what was wrong. He fixed it. Then he fixed it again because the first fix wasn't quite good enough for my snooty dryer. So, the moral of the story (do you like how I'm wrapping it up so quickly) is that we have lots of clean, dry clothes here. And I owe it all to my fantastic Mr. Fix-It.

Did I mention that he fixed Zach's dresser too?