A friend was talking about the old twin-tub washing machines that finally went out of fashion in the early 1980s with the advent of modern machines. I couldn't help but think back to my experience with a twin-tub machine.
My children were small so my twin-tub was always on the go. However one day it wouldn't drain. It was impossible to fit anything into the tub to scoop the water out with. In my many travels around the world, I'd seen men in Africa and Australia siphon petrol from one place to another, it looked straightforward enough. Taking a deep breath I placed one end of the hose in the first water and holding the other end of the hose I sucked hard... I forgot the rules of gravity, the object you suck from must be higher than the object you are transforming liquid into, unfortunately, short as I am I was a good bit higher than the machine. I swallowed a mouthful of dirty soapy water but it felt like I'd swallowed gallons -2.5 liters. I staggered back and fell to the floor gasping for air, just then my children came into the kitchen and saw me, they panicked and ran to a neighbour's house. To add insult to injury, while I was busy with the washing, my daughters were playing dressing up in my bedroom without my knowledge. One was covered in makeup and the youngest one was wearing my very best fancy bra.
Several neighbors rushed in, saw me gasping on the floor, assumed I was having a heart attack, and called emergency services. I couldn't speak to explain what happened. An ambulance with flashing lights pulled up outside, they took one look at me placed me on a structure, and rushed me to the hospital crash unit. They attached equipment to me while I lay gasping trying to point to my throat. They talked among themselves saying my heart was fast but appeared alright. Finally, after what seemed an age, I managed to croak hoarsely "Water". Someone understood me and held a cup for me to sip some. "Can you tell us where the pain is and what happened?" A doctor asked. !I wallowed whopping machine waller". I replied. They looked at me. Then at each other trying to work out what language I was speaking. It took a couple of minutes before a nurse said triumphantly "She's English and she swallowed dirty washing water". Everyone in the room apart from me looked at her approvingly.
A few hours later I was discharged. I didn't dare to tell my lovely neighbours the truth of what I'd done.. Sadly we moved to a bigger house. I suspect those lovely people in that street can still recall that day. Hopefully, they still don't know the truth.
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