It was an uncomfortable seven degrees Celsius when I showered and the water tended to be either too warm or too cold. Tiki rang me at work to say that her parents had decided to buy both her elder sister and her a new washing machine. She said that her father did not want to spend more than two hundred and fifty dollars and had his eyes set on a twin-tub washer by Hoover. I stated that I thought the fully automatic Simpson ‘Minimatic’ would be a better proposition, but was told not to get the “sulks”.
The day achieved an above average maximum temperature of twenty-one degrees Celsius and I continued to overheat in my skivvy and jumper as I drove to the store, Reids, on Taren Point Road to look at a stove that had been selected by “Mum” and “Dad”. Its price had been reduced by ten dollars, from two hundred and nineteen. Tiki, nevertheless, opted for a Chef ‘Executive’ with a price tag of two hundred and forty-nine, which somewhat displeased her parents.
Then it was our turn to look at washing machines. Once again we went against their wishes by showing our preference for the Simpson ‘Minimatic’, in spite of the fact its cost exceeded “Dad’s” stipulated limit by forty-nine dollars. By this time it was too late for us to actually purchase our selections and we, therefore, have to return tomorrow morning at half past eight.