We recently purchased a new refrigerator and I'm still getting used to it. I interact with the refrigerator several times a day, and when the contents get rearranged, it throws me off.
"Wait, where do we keep the cheese now? And why are my apples way over here? This shelf moves? And this one doesn't? Why would they design it like that? How do you make it spit out ice cubes instead of water?"
And so on. My list of questions and sundry annoyances grows daily, but there's no denying it's a beautiful refrigerator. It's black. Very black. None more black.
And so on. My list of questions and sundry annoyances grows daily, but there's no denying it's a beautiful refrigerator. It's black. Very black. None more black.
My wife has decided that that's the direction in which all of our kitchen appliances are going: black. Which is fine by me. I just need to keep track of where she puts the yogurt now. And the fact that our freezer is now on the bottom rather on the side. That's world-changing, by the way. I won't get used to that for at least three years (you think I'm kidding).
A few years ago we bought a dishwasher from a guy named Flint Parker. That's an absolutely true story. "Flint Parker" should be rasslin' dogies out west, not selling overpriced appliances to suburban white people.
But sell appliances is what Flint Parker does, and he sold us an expensive one. I still love it, but it causes Terry no end of grief because she's constantly having to pull bits of food out of the spray arm nozzles so that our expensive dishwasher will actually, you know, wash dishes.
I've finally gotten used to the space-age, touch-sensitive buttons on the door of our dishwasher, which means it's about time for Terry to buy a new one. A cardinal rule in this house is that Daddy is never to be comfortable with any of the living arrangements. Once I grow accustomed to something, the family switches it on me. I can't keep up, and I think this amuses them. I'm like a walking psychology experiment to these people.
Anyway, apart from the refrigerator and the dishwasher, the only other really "major" kitchen appliance is the stove, and I almost never use it. I'll boil water occasionally, and once a decade I'll bake something, but really, Terry is free to swap that out whenever she likes. It's the one thing that won't alter my existence much at all.
But the Keurig? And the Vitamix? Those are staples. Don't mess with those. I need some consistency in my life. And besides, I'm still too busy trying to figure out where we keep the salad dressing now.
A few years ago we bought a dishwasher from a guy named Flint Parker. That's an absolutely true story. "Flint Parker" should be rasslin' dogies out west, not selling overpriced appliances to suburban white people.
But sell appliances is what Flint Parker does, and he sold us an expensive one. I still love it, but it causes Terry no end of grief because she's constantly having to pull bits of food out of the spray arm nozzles so that our expensive dishwasher will actually, you know, wash dishes.
I've finally gotten used to the space-age, touch-sensitive buttons on the door of our dishwasher, which means it's about time for Terry to buy a new one. A cardinal rule in this house is that Daddy is never to be comfortable with any of the living arrangements. Once I grow accustomed to something, the family switches it on me. I can't keep up, and I think this amuses them. I'm like a walking psychology experiment to these people.
Anyway, apart from the refrigerator and the dishwasher, the only other really "major" kitchen appliance is the stove, and I almost never use it. I'll boil water occasionally, and once a decade I'll bake something, but really, Terry is free to swap that out whenever she likes. It's the one thing that won't alter my existence much at all.
But the Keurig? And the Vitamix? Those are staples. Don't mess with those. I need some consistency in my life. And besides, I'm still too busy trying to figure out where we keep the salad dressing now.
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