A Little Confused

"Gee, I thought I had things figured out."

This morning, I had to issue some important reminders to various members of the SJG household.  "You are not a kitty," I told Dusty, as he licked a bowl of half and half left out on the counter... to defrost.  "You are not a freezer," I told the top part of the fridge.  "You're supposed to keep food cold, silly, not turn everything into a popsicle.  That's the freezer's job.  Capiche?" Apparently not.  Last night, hubby adjusted things and told the fridge to get its sh*t together.  Did it listen?  No, it froze up.  It went and iced up on us, just days after the warranty ran out.  Coincidence?  I think not.   So, to review.  A dog that thinks it's a cat.  A fridge that thinks it's the Good Humor truck.  Let's hope the universe self-corrects.  I'm not ready to put out a litter box.  I'm not ready to break a tooth on a brick of Greek yogurt.  I need someone to step forward and accept blame so  I can go on with my day.  Any takers?