Tonight's oversight was classic. Just as we were expecting a guest for the evening (it was late, but you realise that time is an elastic entity when you are a student!) I opened the washing machine door to be greeted by a foul smell. My washing, which had been there for a few days (call me a scruff, it's been said more than once this week) wreaked to high heaven. As I slopped it out of the drum, the cloudy rancid water it was sat it splashed on our new vinyl floor.
Something was clearly amiss. Suddenly I realised that earlier, I had nonchalantly pushed the filter cover back in, thinking a tradesman had knocked it clumsily as he sidled across the room. How wrong could I be. One of the young people checked the waste water pipe, I checked the other two. It was fine, everything plumbed in correctly. And my attempts to blame the builders (my new favourite people!) were dashed. Suddenly I remembered the filter cover. I opened it up, and began to unscrew the cap. Sure enough, the entire contents of the drum, the rancid water left for 4 days emptied itself onto the crisp grey vinyl.
It's amazing how we miss what's under our noses, blame anonymous scapegoats without an attorney, then realise that our mistakes have led to this catastrophe. I hate wet feet. But the floor will be dry in the morning and so will my toes. I'm glad that God's mercy (like my socks) is fresh every morning.
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