Thursday, May 15, 2008

Ice, ice baby.

Last night the following exchange took place in our apartment:
 
Fresh:  What are these two ice cube trays doing on the pot rack?
Wife:  They need to be filled with water and placed in the freezer.
 
After the conversation, I filled them and put them back in the freezer without further comment.  This shows that I have moved to the second stage of marriage.  In the first stage, I would have asked, "Why can't you make ice?" or "What the fuck is wrong with you?"  In the third stage, there won't even be a conversation, I'll just fill them and put them back in the freezer without asking (because really, the answer is obvious). 
 
It's amazing that she can make chicken marsala without a recipe but she forgets the recipe for ice. Ah, the joys of marriage!