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"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?
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