Steps to Repair a Unicorn

Remember when I said I had found "the unicorn of washing machines." You know, because it washed AND dried in one machine. The love affair is over. O-V-E-R.

Zac and I like to put the kids to bed, pour a night cap, and sit up to chat about random things. On this night, we decided to work on to-do's around the flat, including our unicorn washer/dryer that began to light up like a pinball machine during dinner. I think it best to email our land-lord, but then the impatient side of me says, "Surely you can fix it yourself." Like good-hearted, educated grown-ups, we think a second night cap and 30 minutes of you-tubing makes us international laundry machine specialists. (In our former residence, I prided myself on my ability to fix and repair dryers using google research, therefore, I am now over confident when it comes to my actual ability.) Every ounce of research says we must turn off the machine from the breaker, pull it out from the wall, and drain the hose of excess water and a possible blockage. We think this sounds like a fun challenge, especially because the washing machine is half full of water, making it very heavy and very hard to pull out from the wall. (We have a very twisted sense of fun.)

The following is the Google Instructions VS the somewhat tipsy Levee's:

Step 1: Turn off machine at the breaker.

Us: Easy.

Step 2: Take the bottom front panel off.

Us: Easy. This is almost too easy. Give us something hard!

Step 3: Get a large item to catch water, turn and open the hose.

Us: We search around for a large bowl. We can only find a small glass measuring cup but we figure we can just keep dumping the excess into the sink. Good plan? Go team! Let's do this. (We open the hose.) Water shoots across the floor like a geyser, making the glass measuring cup a projectile missile. We both gasp. I run to grab towels, Zac tries to reign in the water by blocking it, with two tiny dish towels. No luck, of course. I come back with every bath towel in the flat. They are as big as beach towels but in about 2 minutes they are all soaking heaps of mush. Then, a lightbulb goes off in Zac's mind. (My mind is still swimming in Gordon's gin.) If we can get the cap back on, then we can open the washer door and scoop out the remaining water. The washer is much easier to pull out of the wall, as it is about 20 pounds lighter due to the loss of water. So while I tip the machine at an angle, anchoring myself with the sink faucet, Zac scoops out water by the bucket, (or should I say pot-full.) We then open the cap again to find the remaining water is a steady dribble and easy to clean up. Okay, Step 3 was a bitch and we were unprepared.

Step 4: Check hose for debris.

Us: Zac has the hands of Frodo Baggins, thick and wide, so I am always the one to jam a hand down an unknown hole. It's practically my party trick. I reach in to find two bobby pins, a button and a white rubbery string. Really? All that work for this? I can feel the fan is free to move after my extraction. I feel like I just played "Operation" and lost. If this doesn't work, then this mission has failed, and the Gordon's is wearing off.

Step 5: Replace cap, and front panel. Switch breaker power back on and test machine.

Us: By this point, I don't give a damn about doing laundry, but we turn it on and it seems to be ready to torment us once more with long hours of crazy noises and semi-dry clothes.

Step 6 : Feel so accomplished you want to wash dishes too. This was our addition.

Us: So we try to turn on the dishwasher. While we may be an international Washer/Dryer Repair Duo, we don't understand English or instructions. (This is going to be a long 3 years y'all.)

FINAL step. Call it a night. Take a shower, "Oh, wait, are there any towels?"

Yes, you are seeing stupidity in real time. You're welcome.