At the close of yesterday's blog post, I mentioned that I was nervous to see what happened next. What happened next (about 60 minutes later) is that the microwave blew up. That was unfortunate. It spontaneously tried to start cooking, and, being empty, exploded.
We're all together. We're all strong. We're all healthy. And so I think these things are the price I have to pay for domestic bliss.
2 comments:
have you seen the movie Poltergiest? Was your luxury apartment built over a grave yard?
Which is exactly why I don't own a microwave...
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