This past week, my clothes dryer started acting up. I would start it up, as per usual, and then I would sometimes notice that it would simply stop for a bit and then restart itself. It didn't always do it, but I did mention it to Kevin.
Then, Thursday morning, it wouldn't turn on at all.
I figured it was just broken, and time to buy a new dryer.
For a minute, I got really excited about going to buy a brand new dryer. I mean, the one I have now is the first dryer we ever bought, back in 2004. It's old. 12 years old.
So, then, Kevin started doing some research to find out what size dryer we had, so that we would be sure to get one of a comparable size. No one suddenly wants a smaller dryer. But, while he was online, something caught his attention, and he decided to just take our old broken dryer apart to check things out.
And he found that the inside of the dryer had filled up with lint, and caught on fire. And that he could fix it.
$60 worth of parts and 24 hours later, he had fixed my 12 year old dryer. That I had accidentally set on fire.
If I want a new dryer, it looks like I am going to have to do better than just accidentally set it on fire, because my husband, he can fix the things.
This is a joke. Well, not the part about my husband fixing things. Or the part about the dryer fire. Or the part about me wanting a new washer and dryer set. Or the part about me setting household appliances on fire to get new ones. I mean, it worked for the microwave that one time. But there's a joke in there somewhere.