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Thursday, March 29, 2007

I have a cunning plan

Alas, in keeping with the historical catalogue of cunning plans, it doesn't work.

Cunning plan #1 (so cunning you could brush your teeth with it!): Superglue the handle back on. Status: FAILED.

Cunning plan #2 (so cunning it's just been made professor of cunning at Oxford university!): Call the repair people and get it fixed before dad comes home. Status: FAILED.

(Sidebar: wtf is up with there only been two warehouses that basically supply everyone in the area and don't have the part in stock? I hate you so much awkward gorenji washing machine)

In the end I had to call my dad and 'fess up. I started the conversation with 'Look, I know this is a bad way to start a conversation, but could you please not get angry or shout at me when I finish', a sentence that ranks right up there with 'You have insurance, right?' and 'you know you thought I was getting fat, well guess what Grandad' as potential conversation starters after leaving someone alone in your house for a week. There was a telling pause after I said it in which I'm sure he was expecting to hear that I'd somehow burnt the house down to it's foundations. On the whole he took it reasonably well, of course he could just be waiting until I'm within arms reach so he can throttle me properly, but he said not to do anything about repairs until he got home. I would usually be slightly offended at his lack of faith in me, but all things considered I don't really have a leg to stand on with that.

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