Phone conversation with my husband while he was out of town:
Me: The snow cone machine is broken.
Victor: How the hell did you break the snow cone machine? I just left this morning.
Me: I didn’t break it. It just stopped working. I’m getting on twitter and calling for a boycott on snow cone machines.
Victor: How is that going to help? Most people don’t even have snow cone machines.
Me: I’m just so pissed off right now. There should be a diagnostic thing on the snow cone machine like Onstar, so it can tell me when it’s about to break.
Victor: That’s not how Onstar works.
Me: It’d be all “I’m your snow cone machine. I’m gonna break tomorrow because I suck. Don’t get your mouth all ready for a snow cone or anything because I’m unreliable.”
Victor: Please stop breaking things in our house.
Me: I DIDN’T BREAK IT. I’ve spent the last hour trying to fix it. I thought maybe an ice cube was stuck in it so I stuck a knife in the gears to feel around and then the knife got stuck and then I was afraid the knife would break off in there and then when it finally turned on a knife-blade would shoot out and kill one of us but then I got the knife to come out eventually so no worries on that. Problem solved. Except that the snow cone machine still won’t work and now two of our knives are bent.
Victor: Why are two knives bent?
Me: I had to use one as a lever to pull out the other one. I’m like McGuyver, with knives.
Victor: Are you doing this to me on purpose so I don’t leave you alone anymore?
Me: Don’t be ridiculous. If I was doing this on purpose I’d break something I don’t actually need. Like the oven.
4 hours later:
Me: Good news! The snow cone machine works.
Victor: Oh yeah?
Me: Yeah. Turns out all the outlets in the kitchen stopped working.
Victor: Huh. That’s…not really good news.
Me: I know, right? I have to take the snow cone machine into the bedroom to make snow cones. It’s like we’re living in the fucking wilderness.
Victor: No, dumb-ass. I mean, it’s not good news that none of the outlets in the kitchen work. Is the refrigerator running?
Me: I’m not falling for that.
Victor: It’s not a fucking joke. The fridge is in the kitchen with the outlets that don’t work, right? Is it still working?
Me: Oh. Yeah. That’s where I’m getting the ice for the snow cones. But none of the other plugs work. But you know, actually? It’s kind of nice having a snow cone machine in the bedroom. We should probably get two. One for the kitchen and one for the bedroom. We’ll be like rap stars. Except instead of stripper poles we have snow cone machines.
Victor: Don’t call me anymore.
Epilogue: Turns out the GFCI outlets were overloaded and Victor had to reset them when he got home and he acted like he was all amazing for being able to fix them but turns out all you had to do was just push a button. I could have pushed a button if you’d just told me to push a button but no, I had to live with a snow cone machine and a blender in the bedroom for three days because Victor wanted to be a hero. Whatever. The point is that we have a snow cone machine. In the bedroom. That’s how you know we’re successful.
Disclaimer: To be completely honest, the only reason we even have a snow cone machine is because I wanted one of those refrigerators that has an ice-maker in the door but we couldn’t afford it and so Victor bought a snow cone machine to distract me. It’s totally kick-ass. And it comes with its own foot-pedal in case you get tired of pushing a button for your snow cones. Because it’s exhausting making snow cones, apparently. So yeah. I can make snow cones just by leaning. I’m kind of a bad-ass.
Comment of the day: I had this Snoopy snow cone machine as a kid…you stuck ice cubes in the roof and then pushed on Snoopy’s ass to hold the ice cubes in while turning this hand crank on the side of the dog house to shred the ice cube. It took fifty ice cubes to get like, one cup of “flakes” and by the time you even GOT to that point, the first ice cube flakes melted. So you just kept cranking the damn handle until you had blisters and a cup of water. I think my mom bought it to make me crazy. I hated that stupid Snoopy snow cone maker. More like a glorified water fountain. ~ Jessica