The other day my husband and I were discussing The Ice Situation in our house. I love ice. I must have ice. I need so much ice in fact, that it’s frequently difficult to fit any of my beverage in the same glass with all of my ice. So, unsurprisingly, my ice needs frequently outstrip the ice maker’s ability to supply them.
I have come up with what I feel is a brilliant strategy; if the ice is low and I’m finished with my drink, I will rinse my ice cubes off and dump them back in the freezer. (And before you get all skeeved out: it’s just the 2 of us here, we NEVER EVER have any company because we are both the biggest hermits that you will ever meet, and, after 23 years of dating and marriage, if we were going to each others’ get cooties, it would have happened by now.)
As I was explaining my brilliant recycling strategy my husband looked at me and said, “Is that why sometimes the ice is purple? I cleaned out the entire freezer because I thought we had a fungus.”
“Oh-nope,that was just me,” I replied.
My husband just looked at me for a beat and then shook his head, saying, “You are the strangest woman I have ever known.”
“Um, I prefer to think of it as quirky, eccentric, and entertaining,” I countered.
“Well, you do entertain me,” he said, smiling.
I guess one out of three’s not bad.
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