It's a new year! whoppee!
But then why does my laundry smell like it was washed in 18th Century Thames water?! Every time I put on a load to dry a mouldy smell seeps out, under the buanderie door in the sous-sol and even graces the 1st floor thanks to the laundry shoot which goes straight up from the buanderie up into our bathroom, ensuring every inch of our house smells like an old sponge.
After a number of bothersome events I can only conclude that there is an evil/bored genie roaming freely around the house who was bothered when it's little green house was knocked down and is now intent on testing my patience in the house that took it's place.
The Miele man has been called for the 3rd time to sort the washing machine smell out - last time he told me I shouldn't use softner - as modern machines couldn't handle it and it goes mouldy. I must have spent too long putting up christmas decorations to have a functioning brain and so I nodded vacantly and stopped using softner. But 15 'softner free' washes later my clothes still smelt mouldy and now that the christmas haze has lifted from my brain what he said has actually clicked - I finally feel like I've been hit in the face with a wet smelly sock when I recall his moronic explanation and (more worryingly) my lobotomised reaction to it!!!
I have also called the service des eaux - with a sudden fear that maybe all out water has been badly channeled (thinking back to the flood which has still not been sorted out under the house) and that our drinking water is in fact waste water... and our infant is going to emerge looking like something from Shrek...
I've put on load after load of washing this morning because I want the house to REALLY STINK so as to make my point clear without having to speak too much when they come over this afternoon.
The other thing the genie has gone and done is put a charm on the light switch in the loo on the ground floor. On Christmas eve she put a spell on the switch meaning it could not be turned off, thus ensuring that the statue of buddah (perched in his niche in the back wall) is eternally illuminated.
It feels too wrong to repeatedly bash the light switch with one's fist, making small screeching noises with buddah looking on, so this practice in meditation will have to be exercised until the cheeky spirit or the project manager reappear - (and I honestly wouldn't be surprised if the genie materialised first...). We'll just have to make the most of the permanent light being on in that particular loo and being enlightened in all possible ways in the process, hopefully having reached a state of the ultimate zen before being handed the whopping great big electricity bill at the end of the month!
While I'm at it I'm also going to blame the genie for putting my one and only Ralph Lauren woollen dress in a hot wash and shrinking it to the size that may fit our newborn - were it not that he is a boy... though after consideration babies look gender-free for the first few weeks so maybe there is still some mileage in it after all...
Any mantra's to appease evil genies welcome... before I call Ghostbusters!
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