a singer out alone

laundry Clara Bow 1927

Our washing machine plays a little tune at the end of its spin cycle, heralding that the laundry is ready to be hung out on the clothes line . It plays a few bars of Riders on the Storm, by the Doors, except in jingly mechanical music.

The problem is that Mr FD starts singing “My brain is squirming like a toad”, every time he hears the tune, and continues singing it every time it pops back into his tiny little brain.

Laundry day seem very long these days…

3 thoughts on “a singer out alone

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