When I was in Spain this summer, I stayed in an apartment that had a washing machine. Every other appliance had manuals, except this one. It did have weird little diagrams for all the different cycles, none of which made that much sense, but we managed to wash our clothes several times with good results.

One of the diagrams on the machine was of a soccer uniform and another was of shoes. Well, I guess that shoe diagram gave me the brilliant idea of washing my Keens, which I'd been wearing most of the time on my trip, and were looking a little shabby. I decided to use a little shampoo because we'd run out of laundry detergent. I used the tiniest drop, much less than I use to wash my hair.

The next thing I know, suds are coming out of the machine like something out of an "I Love Lucy" episode. All over the floor, and not stopping. I had no idea how to make it stop, and just had to wait it out. I spent the next few hours of my last day in Spain mopping the floor, even moving the machine to clean under it, using all my towels up, too. It was a huge drag.

I wonder what the cleaning lady must have thought after we left? Probably that those Americans sure were clean--they even washed the floor!