Sistah Nan, it's been a kinda long haul lately; like being pushed through Mama's wringer washer a few tmes too many. 
(I seem to rememer a time when I stopped you from sending a black snake through it to see how long it would be if flattened...:))
((((((((((((LadyX))))))))))))) God bless you.
Nope, you're wrong as usual. It wasn't a black snake. It was a brown one, a rat snake as I recall. Sort of prophetic wasn't it? Now we spend a lot of our time putting the Rat party through the wringer. And it does seem to make them longer.....winded. They are like a broken record: blah blah blah. Remember the time you got your hand caught in the wringer? You were into it up to your elbow before I tripped the spring and released you. See? I was always getting you out of a jam, so to speak.
Evenin' ladies.
I remember when I was a young pup stickin' my fingers in Mom's old Maytag. In no time at all, it was up to my armpit, the rollers continuing to roll along.
Skerd to death, knowin' I'd prolly get in trouble for stickin' my hand in there, I hollered and screamed "MOM!!!"
Now, the Maytag was in the basement, Mom was upstairs, door closed, and she was hard of hearing. Don't know if she actually heard my screams, or if it was time to run the clothes through the wringer, but nonetheless, she came down the stairs, ran over and flipped the lever to stop the wringer, them gave a strong jerk on the bar on top to release the tension of the rollers.
She was my hero. I ended up with a sore arm in a sling, My ego was flattened - I wasn't as tough as I thought.
Those sure were great washing machines, though.