So a friend of mine texted me yesterday to say that the Drug Enforcement Administration would like to examine the contents of our bottle of Zyrtec. I think she’s just jealous that I invented washing your stuffed animals in the dishwasher by dreaming about it.
And that’s about all that’s going on around here today.
Oh, there’s WINTER going on, because… well… SNOW. It’s back. And the snowblower didn’t have any gasoline this morning, but that doesn’t really affect me, because listen: I don’t even know how to START the snowblower.
And our Keurig coffee maker has died. Yesterday, it took me four times of running through the brewing cycle, a lot of words that I regret thinking, and a patience-practicing session that I pretty much flunked in order for me to get two inches’ of coffee in the bottom of my mug. I finally gave up, because that’s what I do when things get hard. I simply added hot water and half-and-half to my little dab of decaf, and I drank my coffee diluted.
(Which was fine and all, what with me having serious coffee issues anyway.)
And then I texted Hubs and said, “I think the Keurig needs an exorcism.” I never heard back from Hubs about that subject, because Hubs is very busy at work. He had servers crashing and motherboards igniting themselves on fire, so he couldn’t really think about lighting some candles around the Keurig and laying his hands on it; he had to get Small Town, USA back up and online. I simply figured that when Hubs came home and made his own cup of coffee, that it would work just fine. That’s what happens around here. The Suburban makes a ticking noise. I tell Hubs about it. Hubs drives it for six continual hours and claims he never heard the noise, because the Suburban was on her best behavior for him. The next time I back the Suburban out of our driveway, it’s ticking again, before I’ve even reached the cul de sac. I was certain that the coffee maker would be no exception to the way our household appliances treat me over Hubs.
Only this morning, when Hubs went to make his coffee, he ended up calling the time of death on the Keurig, and asking if anyone would like to say some last words. I told him, “Well. I guess that’s what Starbucks is for.” To this, Hubs said, “I don’t even like Starbucks.” Honestly, I was shocked. I thought Hubs was totally on board with my Starbucks addiction issues, and that he was not only an enabler to me and my grande, no-water chai latte problem, but also a full-fledged ‘Bucks junkie himself.
And then I remembered that we had just seen an episode of Duck Dynasty, where Jase walks into a coffee shop and decides he must leave immediately because he can’t get a cup of simple, plain-black coffee, and WHAT’S WITH ALL THIS SISSY FLAVORING AND EXOTIC DRINK NAMES THAT TAKE THIRTY MINUTES TO SHOUT OUT AND ORDER?
I swear, if the boys from Duck Dynasty donned aprons, tied their hair and beards back with scarves, and grabbed their wives’ brooms and mops, Hubs and the boy would do it, too. If Jase can influence the way Hubs drinks his coffee, then I wish the Robertson boys would convince the rest of America’s men that it’s downright fantastic to scrub a kitchen floor and fold a load of laundry.
And THAT, people, really does sum up the extent of what’s happening at the Jedi Manor. We have boring days, just like everyone else.
Except, this little video has been a highlight in our week. I know. You’ll watch it, wrinkle your nose and say, “Really? That was stupid!” Yes. Yes, it IS stupid, but the more you watch it, the funnier it gets. We have all laughed over it at our house. In fact, we’ve all laughed over it, TIMES ONE HUNDRED.
Y’all have a good Wednesday night. May your coffee be hot in the morning, and may you never have a rhinoceros eat dinner with you.