Clamp & Turn.

My adult life is all about making things work. Isn't that the way it goes?

Life is good. It is not perfect, but perfecity is a filter on #instagram anyway.

About 2 years ago my dryer died. "That's fine we have the sun!" I proclaimed to my children, and we air dried our clothes on our front porch.

In the rain or on cloudy days I have set up a high tech system of fans in my laundry room that will do the job just fine. Whatever. It works.

About a month ago. My washer died.

It had been acting a bit "funny" but I tried to do the adult thing and ignore the situation because. That works. (mostly never)

So my washer died. 

I mourned her properly, melting to my knees and moaning "Whyyyyyyyyyyy have you forsaken me!" 

I never got an answer. Dead machines tell no tales and when I kicked it (because that sometimes helps) It just dented.

On Monday I had appointments so I was off of work when Emma texted me "Javier and his dad are bringing a set after school. When you have time, maybe move the old ones?"

Woohoo. A free washer! Now to move it.

"So....Your sister got us a washer and dryer.We have to like...move those ones." I walked into my kitchen and told Shane. Gesturing into the laundry room nonchalantly.

"Ummm....OOOoookay." Shane looked into the laundry room and then back at me.

He looked nervous.

He should look nervous.

I am not a handy person. That's what my ex-husband did. All the handy "man" stuff like changing the oil and replacing things and fixing things and moving things and mowing things. That stuff.

I did the cute things like cook dinner and plan vacations and make things pretty and BE pretty and raise kids and make THEM pretty. That stuff.

Needless to say that since our divorce when things break I usually kick it, move around it or try to ignore it.(or make it pretty)

"Let's do it Shane! We can do anything!" I say leading us into the laundry room with a jaunt in my step.

"Yes. Okay." Shane towered over me rubbing his chin.

"What do we do first?" I ask him.

"How am I supposed to know?" He answered

"Ummmm because you have a PENIS. Duh." I rolled my eyes up at him.

"That is not the way this works. I may have a penis but YOU'RE my mom and YOU raised me." he reasoned.

"Fuck." I muttered

"Indeed." He muttered back.

"Needless to say we are very smart and intelligent women who can do this."

"Gee. Thanks." 

"My pleasure. First....lets move this thingie." I said, hitting the top of the drier. 

And so we did.

I was quite proud of us, me in my pink walmart jammies and my son. 

"Look at us, we are practically men!" I huffed at Shane as we moved the dryer out to the front yard.

"DO you think the tweakers will take this? They've been picky lately..." (SIDE NOTE: They took it.)

Back inside I peered at the washer. "Hmmmm It has two hose thingies. So we need to unscrew those."

I tried to unscrew it with my hands. That was a no go. "Son. Try to unscrew it with your big meaty man hands!" I exclaim and move to the side, actually thinking that he WOULD, and then we would be done.

"Mom. We need tools for this." Shane said from behind me.

"Okay....well go get one."

"Sure. Where?"

"In the tools drawer. Duh." 

"Okay....we have one of those?" 

"Well...we probably should." I climbed on top of the washer to peer closer at the offending hose thingies.

"How about go get those tools I bought you for Christmas that one year when I thought I could buy you tools and you would turn handy. Those." I said nodding. 

Inside would be the tool we needed, I just knew it!

"Mom. Those tools are not the kind of tools that we need...but sure." He walked out.

I looked at the twisty thing and I knew JUST what tool that we needed. "Oh!! We need a clamp and turn!" I yelled excitedly across the house.

"A what?!" Shane laughed. Holding out his little red tool box to me.

"A CLAMP and turn."

"There is no such tool."

"Uh...YES there is. I have seen it! Chris used one."

"That is not what it is called."

"Well that is what it should be called because you CLAMP things. and then you fucking TURN it."

"Okay...I'm picking up what you are laying down here mom, but regardless we don't HAVE a  wrench."

"A wrench?"

"Yes that is what it is called."

"Well that is just stupid." I rolled my eyes and looked with dismay at Shane's tool box. "What even are those things?"

"This is a socket set."

"Will it clamp and turn this?"

"No."

"What are those even for?"

"Tightening and loosening bolts." He shrugged.

"What if we use a can opener?" I suggest.

"Whaaaaat? No...just no."

"WAIT! Hear me out! Listen!! Old people use can openers to open things sometimes." I say...waiting for him to see what a genius I was.

"Yeah...yeah...jars mom. Not washing machines."

I hold up my hand gesturing to him and then me.... "What are WE even doing?!"

"Neither of us knows."

And then it happens. I realize that I am sitting on top of my broken washing machine, trying to reason using a can opener as a tool with my son.

Laughter ensues.

I laugh so hard that I am hunching over the back of the washing machine on my knees.

"Oh no." I hear Shane behind me. "Mom get off the machine. You're going to fall."

"Nooooooo I CAN'T!" I wheeze out between gafaws. "I have to do this!....this is so stupid.....clamp and turrrrrrrn!"

I laugh for 15 minutes, until my laughs turn into hiccups and between hiccups I wipe my eyes.

"You okay now?" Shane asks.

"Sorta..." I sigh

"Why sorta?" Shane's face pinches in worry.

"I pee'd a little." I shrug.

Shane sighs.

It became clear that the can opener wouldn't work (I tried) so I "Fixed myself" and texted Emma. 

Soon enough Emma's friend Javier and his dad come, baring a washing machine and a dryer.

"Did you bring the clamp and turn?" I ask Javiers dad.

His eyebrows raise.

I have never met this man and I am still in my pink walmart Jammies. 

"This, she means this." Emma holds up the clamp and turn. 

"YOU are a good girl." I say and turn back to enter the laundry room. Soon enough it becomes apparent that It doesn't fit.

"This clamp and turn isn't the right size." I turn back and hold it up to show Javiers dad. He smirks at me and says "It's adjustable."

He smirked. SMIRKED at me.

Whatever, beggars can't be choosers and I am sick of hand washing my underwear.

"Oh. Look, I appreciate you so much. I can't do this. I'm not good at this boy stuff. I tried. The can opener didn't even work." I shrugged like he should understand and handed him back his tool.

He looked at me like I was crazy and Emma whispered "Hey ma, why don't you go sit down and relax. Read your book maybe."

She smiled. She is such a good girl. "You want me to go sit down? Isn't that rude? I feel like that is rude."

"Nope." She answered and Javier shook his head.

Look. I know my kid was embarrassed by my lack of tool knowledge but here's the thing. I couldn't give a shit about tools. I am not one of those women who has to do everything that boys can do.

Nope. Not me. 

I don't want to do it. 

SO I went to sit down and yes, I read my book.

Later everyone joined me in the living room where Javiers dad proclaimed the washer ready. "It doesn't look to be leaking, but I don't know how to turn it on so can you?"

"Sure! Thank you so much!" I gushed, leading them into the laundry room. I looked at the water knobs. "Turn these on?" I questioned. 

"No...no...I did that. I just you know...I don't know how to turn THAT on." He said, pointing to the washing machine.

"Oh. Ohhhhhhh! You don't know how to work a washing machine?"

"Yeah...no. I don't." He whispered.

I laughed out loud and turned the knob. "No problem. That I can handle." He smiled at me and I thanked him profusely and smirked back.