It even reminds me to feed Little Ricky.

Excitement arrived today. I signed it in on a greasy clipboard.

Today was delivery day for my new washing machine. The appliance guys moved my old tired machine to the garage, hoisted the new one into the laundry room, hooked up the hoses, and then they were on their way.

I had no idea how high-tech this thing is until it rested next to my old dryer. This thing. It is FANCY.

There are buttons and settings and quiet controls. I can choose whether the buttons beep or don't beep. I can pre-select things I never knew I wanted to select in the first place. And this is not even the high-end model.

I couldn't wait for the appliance guys to drive away so that I could try it out.

It's official. I've become Lucy Ricardo.

If only I could call Ethel to come over and we could try out my new washer. But then we'd just do something crazy with the buttons, and the hoses would pop off, sending water shooting up in the air and all over Ricky's brand new suit.

Then I'd have some explainin' to do.

Instead, since I don't have a neighbor named Ethel, I'm not married to a Cuban, and I don't hang out around the house in high heels, I think I'll just do a load of laundry. Or two.

I may throw some red socks in with a load of whites to see if this machine is as smart as at looks. You know. Just for kicks.