When I was a youngster, the majority of housewives washed the family's clothes using a washboard and a tub of water. This was very time consuming and physically hard. Remember the old poem: "This is the day we wash our clothes"? There was more truth than poetry to that saying. It would take a housewife most of a day to complete a washing for a large family. She first had to heat the water on top of a wood and coal burning stove and then transfer the water to a tub. Can you imagine doing this in a home with no air conditioning and the temperature outside 102 degrees, while the stove is burning red hot to heat more water.
When I was about four years old, my father was able to purchase one of the new fancy washing machines for my mother. It consisted of a tank on four legs with wheels so that the machine could be easily rolled about. Inside the tank was an agitator that was driven by an electric motor that was located under the tank. This agitator was controlled by a gearshift that extended from under the tank. On top of the tank was positioned a wringer for forcing the water from the clothes after the washing was completed.
I was intrigued with the gearshift. When my mother was finished with a load of washing she would shift the gearshift and the agitator would stop. I couldn't see into the tank but I could hear the agitator start and stop. Mother would then remove the washed clothes and place a new batch of dirty clothes into the tank and once again move the magic gearshift. After she started the new load of clothes she would leave the washer and work on one of the many other jobs that housewives had. She would judge when the clothes would be clean and would return and start another load.
It was after she had placed another load of clothes into the tank, started the agitator, and left to do another job that I did some experimenting. I would shift the gearshift and I could hear the agitator stop. Then when I
shifted the gearshift again the agitator would start again. Hey that was fun! I could actually control the washing machine. I did the magic act several more times and then drifted off to find another scientific experiment. Unfortunately, I had left the agitator in the stop mode. The clothes were not getting washed. Some time later my mother returned and discovered the clothes were not washed. She started the agitator and then located me and delivered a very harsh, stern message to me. "Don't touch that gearshift again. If you do, you will die."
I had been threatened by my mother! The person put upon this earth to wash my clothes, prepare my meals and perform any other tasks that needed doing, had the audacity to threaten me. She must be taught a lesson. If I let her get away with that threat, who knows what she may try in the future. I waited until her back was turned, slapped the gear shift to stop position and ran with all my speed toward the one place I knew I would be safe; the top of the chicken coop..
The first hint that I may be in trouble, came when I looked back over my shoulder and found that my mother was running just as fast as I was. I didn't know that mothers could run. I reached a stack of bailed hay that my father had placed next to the chicken coop, scampered quickly up the baled hay and stepped onto the chicken coop roof and climbed to the top. I turned to enjoy my triumph. I wanted to witness my mother's frustration as she was unable to ascend on high. I wanted to gloat as she learned the lesson that mothers do not threaten four year old boys who are god's gift to the universe.
Somewhere that morning there was peace and safety and tranquility. Somewhere birds were singing, children were laughing and mothers were minding their business. But on top of the chicken coop there was terror. Slowly up the roof on hands and knees came my mother. I was trapped. I was defeated and done and beaten.
That day I learned two of the great eternal truths we are supposed to learn during our short stay here upon this earth. Those truths are: Mother's can both run and climb!
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