We used to own a washing machine that only worked with cardboard. Now we have a fan that only works with cardboard.

The washing machine in our house gets a serious workout. Our apartment is small and we don’t have a dryer (which is why we are able to afford the things like the apartment and clothes) which means we have to hang dry our clothes which subjects us to the perils of rain, snow, wind and yellow dust and pollution from China. This means She Who Must Be Obeyed does laundry almost every day.

(Note: I do not think this is necessary but refer you to She Who Must Be Obeyed’s name.)

(Second Note: As to why our daughters have not been taught how to do this task, well, that’s another post.)

Eventually, as a result of constant wear and tear, the on/off button on our old washing machine broke. If you depressed it, nothing happened. For a while we were able to force it into place but eventually even that stopped working.

Somehow, and I still don’t understand how or why, SWMBO figured out a way to insert a thin piece of cardboard alongside and under the button to make it work. The problem is, if it failed, you had to insert a new piece of cardboard. Getting it set correctly could take a lot of time (prompting me to go to the laundromat a couple times instead).

Eventually, even that stopped working and we broke down and bought a new washing machine.

Everything was fine until this week when our floor fan, which is at least 12 years old, finally started to break. (Actually, this was the second thing to break: the neck stopped extending last year.) This year, the joint holding the fan at the proper angle gave up prompting the fan to point its face toward the floor like a little kid getting a stern scolding.

It still works and it still oscillates and I planned on taking it apart today and seeing if it could be patched with duct tape. (Or, barring that, I planned to ruin it enough to force the purchase of a new one.)

However, She Who Must Be Obeyed instinctively went for the cardboard and figured out a way to wedge the face up a little higher. (Now it looks like a teenager taking a scolding and/or rolling her eyes.)

When SWMBO realized this was her second cardboard repair, she started laughing.

I still plan on “fixing” the fan well enough to require a new one. The cardboard wedges hold it up higher, but they fall out if you move the fan. (I might be able to fix that with duct tape, though.)

It’s our new washing machine that worries me the most. If something goes wrong, there’s no way to insert cardboard under the power button.

The only thing I have to report about today’s trip is that there is nothing to report. The Japanese press must be kind of upset, too. The most exciting part happened at the end, and that was more weird than exciting.

We planned to start our journey home at 7:00 a.m. which means the girls were loaded and ready and we departed at 7:40.

We made good time but were worried that we encountered a lot of traffic early. It wasn’t a traffic jam, just busy. Since we’d left early to avoid such things we were worried. There were also illuminated signs explaining that near a couple interchanges traffic was moving at less than 10 km per hour (6.3 miles per hour).

I had my smart phone charged and had a map open with “real time” traffic status updates, but all the roads appeared to be green. Luckily, the big delay was in a different direction.

Then, when we got  into the mountains, we hit the rain which was annoying but didn’t slow us down much.

At one point we stopped for a coffee and restroom break that went surprisingly smoothly except for our oldest deciding she didn’t need to go. An argument ensued until she went. We kept emphasizing we didn’t know what traffic was like up ahead.

Finally, about 50 miles from home we hit a red zone in the six lane section and had to stop a few times. As I was getting ready to tell our oldest “see I told you so”, the traffic suddenly disappeared and we made good time all the way home.

The only glitch happened when our NaviBitch led us through the most crowded street and intersection in town. (I suspect this was the NaviBitch’s revenge for me becoming Mr. Positive and complimenting She Who Must Be Obeyed for successfully following NaviBitch’s orders. NaviBitch seems to consider this interference.)

As we were waiting for a light a car passed us on the right to try to get to a right hand turn lane. As he did so his mirror clipped our mirror. He turned on his hazard lights and waited. Sort of. As we came in behind him to “discuss” his being an idiot, he suddenly pulled away and we couldn’t follow. We’re still not sure if he cared or if he was even aware something had happened.

Luckily, there was no damage and we got home in record time–it took 4 hours to go 300 kilometers (186ish miles) through the mountains and the traffic. Did the NaviBitch compliment us for that? No, but I taught She Who Must Be Obeyed a few words she could use during future trips.

Anyone who’s ever traveled long distances with my family quickly discovers three things: our kids travel pretty well; She Who Must Be Obeyed is learning to drive the proper way; and our brand new navigation system is an annoying bitch.

The girls play computer games, watch scenery and sleep. They don’t battle for territory and wonder if we’re there yet. I’ve never had to threaten to “go back there” or threaten to have SWMBO “turn this car around” (Note: I have had to do the latter on short trips to restaurants.)

She Who Must Be Obeyed has learned to drive much faster and more aggressively than before and this has led her to complain about other drivers. Most of the time the complaints are of the polite “can you believe that person?” style. I’m happy with her progress but want to work on her language. She needs more profanity and more contempt for other drivers. “Can you believe this person?” is a good start but I’m trying to get her to the “Wake up, Moron” phase which will eventually lead to the black belt level of “Move, asshole, move, move, move.” and other more appropriate phrases.

(Note: I don’t have a Japanese driver’s license yet because it’s a complicated process and I am lazy. Also, it’s probably best our girls don’t yet learn the phrases I’d use while driving.)

I bought the navigation system because, at the time, She Must Be Obeyed but was afraid to drive by herself. My helpful advice “follow the expressway until you hit Nagaoka then turn left” was not perceived as being helpful. Because she wouldn’t go without me as the navigation system, she either stayed home or spent several hundred dollars to take the train.

I thought the navigation system would be a step up from the days when I worked as the navigation system. (Let’s just say swearing and tossed maps was involved.) The Navi, however, has her own quirks. Her voice is polite but loud and she feels compelled to announce certain things, even helpful ones, with extra noises and a loud voice.

–digital trumpet fanfare—There’s an on-ramp ahead. Get in the right lane for your convenience.
–digital trumpet fanfare—There’s a service center on your left.
–digital trumpet fanfare—Turn left, moron.

That latter one is a bit of an exaggeration but after a couple hours of that even She Who Must Be Obeyed was saying “Yes, Mom” and “Okay, Mom” to the navigation system.

Also, if you don’t follow the navigation system’s advice she can be stubborn. “I won’t be ignored, Dwayne” (as if it’s my fault even though I’m not driving) and she’ll send us half way around town to get us back where she told us she wanted us.

Eventually, we got to the in-laws. The navigation system kept saying “Don’t I get a thank you? For all I do for you I don’t even get a thank you?”

I said “No” and unplugged her. We’ll see how angry she gets next time.