A booming voice filled the house at the crack of dawn, a man screaming out of our answering machine that THE MICROWAVE! IS SCHEDULED FOR DELIVERY! TOMORROW! BETWEEN 11:30!
Wait, what? Between 11:30? And 20 seconds? Some recording woke me up to give me a four-hour window that is only 60-seconds long.
I wish we still had the message, I'd have played it for you...but when the machine says, "Press erase again to delete all messages," my mother takes that as a suggestion.
So I guess that concludes the saga of the microwave. Unless like the dishwasher, it tries to kill us all after it's here.
Friday, January 18, 2008
The Source Of So Much Entertainment
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