The Wondrous Vacuum of Blessing and Glory

I have said to several people, in hushed tones, “I totally think I’m going to throw my tool box into our washing machine so it (hee hee hee) breaks and we have to get a new one because I totally hate that piece of crap and want one of those new ones that look like a piece of the International Space Station fell off.”

And I’ve many times been close to actually following through on the threat.

But I don’t think I need to bother with it because the washing machine has more or less taken matters into its own hands. And by taken matters I mean that it is rendering all our clothing with what looks like someone decided Penzoil motor oil would do a better job than the trusted Tide we all know and love. And then decided to open the lid during every cycle and um…drizzle…the oil like it was garnishing some fancy dessert.

So there I was today, being Marty Stewart, folding the laundry and discovering all these spots all over everything.

Just wonderful.

I said I wanted a new washing machine and dryer (can you believe I’m going off about this lol?)—I didn’t say I wanted to suffer the Maytag’s equivalent of the Space Shuttle losing tiles on re-entry and incinerating every bit of fabric we own.

But all over everything are these smudgy brown oil spots. And I know they’re that and not that because I’ve seen this before. As in the last time, a hundred years ago, when we had to get the then new washing machine.

But I fold everything anyway because it’s not like I can rewash them and get rid of them. And I know that because I’ve made that mistake too, thinking if I ignore it it’ll all go away. Yeah no. Last time I tripped over that one, nothing came out right.

So I decided to ignore it so that it would all go away.

And vacuum. Because now the laundry was folded but I was still feeling like Marty Stewart. So I pulled out the vacuum and it transfigured. Just like Jesus did when Moses and Elijah showed up and the boys were all, “Hey! Let’s build a—” But God was all, “Yeah no. Sit down, dorks.”

And I caught it on film and the big soon-to-be-famous photographic PROOF that I own the Wondrous Vacuum of Blessing and Glory is right up there. Look at it. Look at the light and the angels and the sparks and the pixie dust and (by the way, I LOVE Red Bull)…

And who cares if everything in the house decided to start breaking down all at the same time, along with the car? Who cares if the washing machine decided to go out in a blaze of glory and take everyone with it? Who cares?

Because now I have a vacuum cleaner that, if you look, really close, you’ll see Mary.

Or Elvis.

Or all that sparkly whipping-wavy splashy stuff the ABC network logo does, and—

…wait, is that another Red Bull?