Showing posts with label Lego. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lego. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

The Damn Dryer Was Giving Us Trouble Again

For some reason, the lint trap isn't very good at the "trapping" bit of the equation. This means that every once in a while, I boost Sam into the attic and he has to hot-foot it over to the vent, reach up into the roof-line, and pull a small quilt out of the little bird-blocker screen. The first time we did this, Sam discovered that the geniuses that had installed the vent hoses in the attic for the dryer and the two upstairs bathroom exhaust fans decided to be generous with said hosing, allowing them to coil on the "floor" of the attic. This led to those loops being full of water. And by full, I mean a gallon of water each. Yeah, not exactly useful in the "exhaust" department.

Anyway, we did the attic gig a few days ago, but the dryer has been more picky than usual, deciding periodically that, no, it was not ready to start at the moment, so bugger off and maybe it'll give it a shot later. So we figured that maybe it was time to take the thing apart and give it that cleaning that you're supposed to... every year? I dunno. We've done it once, ever, and the thing is eleven years old. And the only reason we did it that once was because the belt had to be replaced. It's one thing to never clean something you have to crack open, it's another thing to have to crack it open, look at the mess, and still decide to not clean it. So we pulled off the back, pulled out the start of the exhaust line, cleaned all that mess and scored thirty cents. Not bad!

Finally we pulled off the front to reveal approximately four thousand legos, a couple buttons, an enormous quilt, a poor poor motor with fur like a bear, and! Drum roll please! Another $7.59 in change!

Well worth the effort. Oh, and we got the dryer running again. But, hey, almost eight bucks! It was like Christmas.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Lego Should be Capitalized. It's a Registered Trademark.

Ethan played his cute card. He went all Bambie-eyes on Sam, and convinced him to build a lego star wars ship for him. Unfortunately, this is never an easy prospect in this house- other than that first time it comes out of the box. And that, of course, is assuming the box hasn't been open for more than five minutes.

So I got roped into digging through containers and containers (and containers) of legos. We need a piece that looks like this, but it has to be gray. No, light gray. No, not that light gray, this light gray.

Two hours later, I buried my head in the container on my lap. Sam patted me on the back. “I have hate,” I muttered. “That seems like a bad thing to have,” he said back. “You made this hate!” I pretended to be working under the impression that he would not be able to hear me unless I yelled. “I don't think that's possible,” he said absently. I pulled my head out of the box, lego stuck to my forehead, and glared at him. “Or, maybe it is,” he responded to my look.

I looked around at the tens of thousands of bricks that surrounded us. “I can go now?” I asked. “Well, no, we're not done. I still need your help.” I put my glare back on. “I can go now?” After a short pause as he analyzed my mood- “Yes, ma'am.”