We’ve got a real-life game of Buckaroo happening in our house. Or, more correctly, collapsearoo. But either way, it’s a game fraught with peril and high stakes.
Somehow, and we have no idea how, we are extremely hard on our clothes airers/horses whatever you want to call them. They end up with leans, or the corner bits pop off or whatever. Carole uses a small one we “won” from my grandma as a sort of ladder to get into the loft – as far as I am aware, that is the only one she climbs up.
Currently, we have one which just folds itself up whenever it feels like it.
Yesterday afternoon I was indulging in my hobby of watching terrible ghost videos on YouTube (incidentally, I dabbled in some Flat Earth videos and they blew my mind – not because it’s clear the Earth is flat, but because of all the things they are willing to believe exist ahead of the Earth being a sphere. And it’s a lot of very strange stuff), there was a sound from the kitchen. I thought it was the sound of one of the pots we brought in from the garden gently shedding a layer of pot.
But no, it was the sound of a clothes horse – complete with clothes – folding itself up into a heap.
Why it chose to do it during some “scary” ghost videos, I will never now. I assume it has a sick sense of humour and thought it would terrify me.
Instead it baffled me, and then left me standing in the kitchen doorway with a look of incredulity on my face.
It collapsed three or four more times yesterday.
We’re still using it today. It’s made it through the whole day without incident. But it could happen. And, of course, because we’re nothing if not cautious, it’s still the one that is in front of the back door. It’s the one that Peppa has to go under to get in or out of the cat flap.
It could shut itself down at any moment and trap, or injure, our cat. And we don’t seem to be doing anything about it.
Why? Because it’s a week before Christmas and we have things to wash – spare bedding, tablecloths and other seasonal nonsense, as well as our day-to-day clothes. We don’t have time for its nonsense. And I’m sure Peppa can outrun gravity if needs be.