P.S

As I stated last post, I have been dreaming of laundry. I decided to make my dreams become a reality, to feel as though I was accomplishing something, while the baby suite is getting finished. So, I wobbled my way up in the attic to retrieve all of the baby bedding, clothing, and such. I piled it all into bags and laundry baskets, loaded my car, and was off to Mikes to do laundry until my hearts content. I envisioned my ipod blaring away, a hot cup of tea, maybe a book, and doing load after load until I was satisfied. As ashamed as I am to admit this, I was really excited!!! That is exactly what I wanted to do on my Thursday night.

Then I ran into some trouble. I put my first load of bedding in and am off reading in the living room. Michael's house is pretty small and I can't help but notice that the machine is unusually loud. Curious, I gather the strength to heave myself off the couch. Sweet Jesus, the machine overflowth!!! There is water all over the kitchen floor, pooling in the grout, soaking into the carpet. I shut the machine off and thankfully the water stops. God forbid there was a burst pipe or something. As quickly as my elephant body will allow I run upstairs to gather towels. I am on my hands and knees mopping up water, determined to handle this like a big girl and refusing to call my parents. Well, I am admittedly a wuss. I broke down and called when I couldn't reach under the table and despite being shut off it still looked like the carpet was getting wet.

The phone call went something like this:
Dad: Hello
Me: Dad?! I am having a bit of a crisis.
Dad: Whats the matter honey?
Me: I was doing laundry and now there is water everywhere.
Dad: We will be right there. I'll bring a mop.
Click.

I was mildly concerned at the curt phone call but was relieved that things were going to be handled by someone other than myself. In hindsight, I probably should have given them some more information. My parents were at Michael's in about three seconds. Upon receiving the phone call from their 8 months pregnant daughter claiming that she was in a bit of a crisis and there was water everywhere they wasted no time. Dad arrived breathless, mop in hand, asking if everything was OK with Mom trailing right behind him. I explained what happened (I probably overloaded the machine, genius) and they explained that they thought I was in labor. Ha ha, no. Everyone always thinks I am in labor. I sigh a little to loud and people ask if I am OK. I promise I will let everyone know if I am in labor. Needless to say, I have stalled on the laundry front. Maybe next week I will regain my strength.