Meet Your New Microwave. You’re Welcome.

Last night, while lying in bed listening to my seven-year old cough up a lung, I designed the perfect microwave. The one I have is pretty awesome. It looks good, is conveniently located, and it even convects (whatever that is). But what I really want is something that performs the desired function with the push of ONE button, not two or three.

If you’re like me (lazy and impatient with a brutal backlog of Netflix shows to watch), you pride yourself on cutting as many corners as possible in your domestic life. Standing in front of an appliance when I could be watching Downton Abbey? Ain’t nobody got time for that.

So I present to you … drum roll please … a newly designed microwave featuring helpful buttons for everyday life.

1. DON’T BOTHER – for when you know they won’t eat it, no matter what the temperature.

2. COFFEE – specially programmed to reheat that last inch in the mug, for the third time. Especially useful on those mornings when you want to drop the kids off at school and keep walking.

3. JUST THROW IT OUT ALREADY – for meals you spent an hour preparing despite a sneaky suspicion that no one would eat it. Bonus feature: “Let it Go” plays as the food reheats.

4. FROZEN. FROM A BOX  – when it doesn’t matter what it is or how to cook it. Because it’s frozen from a box and you just can’t.

5. NUGGETS OF INDETERMINATE ORIGIN – the equivalent of speed dial on your phone.

6. SURPRISE! – when you’re not sure what it is or how long it’s been in the fridge. State of the art sensor determines if reheating, cooking, or total detonation is required.

7. DATE NIGHT – for that holy grail of leftovers: restaurant meals. Reheats perfectly every time then dries your tears.

8. SCORCHING – for those times when you find yourself saying “Your noodles were cold, darling? Here, try this instead.” Automatically dials 911 for you.

9. FUCK IT – for everything else.

 

 

 

Solo Mission Day 1: June 2

Diary of my captivity, Day 1: They tried to wear me down with incessant bickering. I got them back with broccoli in the Mac and cheese so we are calling this one a draw. If our enemies could harness the anger and venom of a 4 or 7 yr old whose sister is touching her blanket / arm / toy / book the world would be a very different place. A very scary place. Forget a woman scorned. Hell hath no fury like a 7 year old. I would also like to thank Austin for adding to the enjoyment of this day by eating an entire bag of carrots and shitting it out in the dining room while we were at the library. And the award for best advice of the day goes to the gentleman who opened the pool and helpfully suggested we not swim in it until “the algae clears and you can sorta see the bottom.” Super duper.

Wanna come over and swim in my lake?

Wanna come over and swim in my lake?