Me Vs My Microwave
It’s a battle. Every hour, every day. My microwave is ancient and does not adhere to proper timing. A bowl of ramen? Six minutes.
It’s been in the house for decades. I should get a new one but I can’t bring myself to do it. The ongoing conflict is too precious to me.
Dear microwave, take pity on me. Please shave seconds off of your time. I long for my noodles.
The great old ones survive. Mine was barely a decade old, just kicked the bucket with nary a whimper. Savour the struggle.
Same deal with the family alligator, here. Attachment's tricky.