I think it's safe to say I have plenty of laundry experience. In fact, I was pretty sure I knew everything I needed to know about laundry, which is that I loathe it. Oh, I don't mind the washing and drying part. In fact, there is something supremely satisfying about decimating a huge pile of dirty clothes. No, it's the folding and putting away that I can't stand. But I never realized laundry could be mysterious.
Behold, the unknown objects of mystery retrieved from the dryer, with the pack of gross green apple gum for scale. There are four of them, and it looks like they might possibly fit together somehow.
I have never seen them before, and have no idea what they could be part of, or where they came from. I suppose it could be bits of the innards of our low-bid Government issue laundry equipment. The rounded yellow piece looks a little like a helmet; maybe one of the sweat shop rodents that turn our state of the art Mouse-a-Tronic 5000 dryer drum has lost his protective gear. And the orange piece looks suspiciously like a mouse-sized ray gun, which concerns me more than a little. Workplace violence is a serious problem, especially if it might spatter blood, hair or entrails on my off-whites. But at least we don't have arsonists in our laundry room. I have recently learned that the great New Year's Eve fire was started in a washing machine, which makes me think there might be more going on here than meets the eye. Perhaps the laundry work force is trying to unionize and the big laundry bosses are trying to keep them in line, the rat bastards. That's so typical, The Man trying to keep the workers down. Workers Unite! Power to the rodents! On the other hand, I haven't seen any furry bits, making the whole mouse scenario seem a bit far-fetched.
I showed the pieces to Weston and asked if he knew where they came from. He has a pretty good handle on our toy supply, but he didn't recognize them either. Then, he started speculating about where they might have come from. Someone could have come in and put them in our laundry! Who would do such a thing, I asked. A baby would! How would a baby be able to reach the washer? The baby used a stool! A stool? Very clever, this ninja baby. But how would the baby get in the house while we were gone? The baby brought the stool to the door, climbed up and opened the door!
So, there you have it. If you see a sneaky-looking baby cruising around with a stool and a bag of little plastic toys, lock your doors! I don't think the baby can pick locks just yet. And invest in some teeny-tiny picket signs and a full-sized fire extinguisher, just in case.