The lower end of our expectations of disaster

Upon arriving back in town, I called our employee who had been caring for our terrors to let her know we were on land, safely, and to thank her.

"Hi, it's me. We're back safely"

"did you get the dryer to work?"

"Huh?"

We hadn't been home yet, and apparently the dryer was broken. To understand why this is funny, you must have a little background info.

This girl, let's call her X, has the worst luck of anyone I have ever met in my whole life. Even worse than my luck, so between the two of us, I'm surprised this business hasn't been run into the ground by now. Her cell phone is always broken. One time I tried to contact her, and she called me from a client's house "sorry, but when I was getting off the bus this morning the coffee I had in my pocket spilled and my cell phone got wet." What?

Once she went away for a long weekend and on the way home Monday morning their car broke down.

Then she went to NYC for a trade show and her flight got delayed from like 10pm til 7am the next day. Then there came a tornado to NYC. And flooding in Brooklyn. And X's plane got hit by lightening. It was on CNN. Upon landing, her travelling companion had filled out customs form incorrectly which subsequently landed them in Customs Hell for five hours.

A few weeks later she went to Vegas. Her flights were okay, but the day after she left I heard SB call out from the living room, "I think X arrived in Vegas." Why? "There's some flash floods just outside the city. Cars are floating away..."

And don't even get me started on how many of her bikes have been stolen, and the bike accident she got into 24 hours before our departure for the wedding.

But she is great, we love her, so we accept the deadly forcefield that surrounds her and keep our fingers crossed that things don't go too wrong.

When we arrived home, Charlie had explosive diarrhea. All over the living room. Then again in the night. This was I'm sure none of X's doing, because Gabby was perfectly healthy, I just think Charlie has a nervous stomach. He's fine now.

But the dryer seemed fried. When you pressed the button, it just made a WWWrrrr noise, like the motor was trying to go, but had no juice. I started pricing new ones, while SB cleaned up diarrhea. Then SB got in there and started taking it all apart. I was nervous. Nervous that either it wasn't that broken and he would wreck it, or that he would get electrocuted. Neither of these happened.

I am happy to report that SB fixed the dryer. Know what was wrong? Someone jammed the lint trap in and pushed a sock in there with it. And then the sock got eaten by the motor. Literally eaten. Big holes in it. It was probably me or SB doing laundry before we left, not paying attention. I'm glad that we don't have to get a new one. I'm sad my sock is toast.