The Battle of the Microwave

Posted by casey on August 16, 2009 in Family, For Your Funny Bone, Home, Life as I Know It |

First, an important announcement – Colter is home! Whooo-hooooooo!
(I am celebrating by posting this pic of him wearing this stylish hat at the ranch while pouting like a small child.)

dsc_0170_edited-1The bad news is that because he is home the previously mentioned battle began resulting in what a friend of ours deemed a rookie mistake on my husband’s part.  I know, you need details.  You know how when you put anything in the microwave, especially any type of frozen meal or let’s say leftovers, in addition to heating the meal into an edible form it spreads a plume of food odor throughout the room?  Oh come on, don’t act like your kitchen doesn’t spread it into the living room and so on and so forth.

Occasionally, when the magical heating box is cooking something like popcorn perhaps, you might appreciate the smell.  In fact, it might even make you desire your tasty treat even more.  How about a smoked ham sandwich with garlic cream sauce and smoky bacon macaroni SALAD that was not supposed to be microwaved?  I do not think so.  One brilliant quality my husband has is that he will eat any leftover at any time of the day regardless of his other options.  I tend to like my meals once.  Okay, I tend to like half of my meal once always leaving a nice portion for him to snack on.

So, yesterday morning I was being useless on the couch after waking up enjoying a nice waffle and dsc_0223_edited-1orange juice when I hear him searching the fridge. Beep, beepbeepbepp.  The microwave.  Then there it was….the cloud of  smoked ham sandwich with garlic cream sauce and smoky bacon macaroni SALAD that was not supposed to be microwaved.  As if making the dogs and I experience it from a far wasn’t awful enough he saunters in front of us in the living room where you can practically see the stench following him.  Two bites into his meal he realized his mistake.  Macaroni salad, not macaroni and cheese.  Macaroni salad is not supposed to be heated up.  At this point, I already have my hand over my mouth plugging my nose and am begging for mercy. Naturally, he has to parade it in front of me again to throw it away.  Fan-freaking-tastic.

“Febreeze! Please, get the Febreeze! You have to Febreeze the room! I’m dying here!!!”  I know you picture an immediate jump into action Febreeze super-hero of a husband right?  Nope.  He proceeds to rinse his dish, wash his hands all while telling me he will get it….at some point.  I’m going to pass out from holding my nose and mouth so long.   If I let go of my nose and mouth I am surely going to bring my breakfast up and I just ate it so that is not going to be an easy process. ‘For the love, get the Febreeze!!!”  After searching through some carpet cleaner and other various bottles, I see him walking out of our bedroom with the beautiful, lavender colored bottle with his hand on the trigger about to save the day.  I am already picturing the mist swirling around the room cutting out the smoked ham sandwich with garlic cream sauce and smoky bacon macaroni SALAD that was not supposed to be microwaved smell from every angle when he walks over to me, lifts his arm and fires the Febreeze.  Where was he aiming with the dial in jet mode you ask?  My face.

I kid you not.  My husband just waltzed out of the bedroom, directly up to the couch lifted the arm to aim and squirted a ray of Febreeze all down my face.  Better yet?  He had no idea that was not what I wanted and didn’t even try to deny that he had done it.  He had done it because he thought I wanted the area around me sprayed. AROUND ME turned into my eye apparently and the dogs.  I couldn’t even yell I was laughing so hard.  One eye was crying because there was odor eliminator in it and the other from laughter.  Realizing his mistake he laughs and apologizes right? Nope.  Typical male response.  ‘Well, can you smell it anymore?”

In the wise words of my father, “Men, they’re pigs.”

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