My Crocheting Talent Goes Unappreciated

I sent my dad that last picture of the bright afghan so that he and my mom could see what’s become of all that yarn they helped me dye and then untangle.

My dad calls me up last night and says, “Those are pot holders, B., not afghans.  Afghans are much larger.”

“Thanks, smartass.”

And then, swear to god, my dad “Tee hee”-ed me!

Me, the queen of “tee hee”-ing people!

God, it tickled me so much.

The Mystery of the Rice Cooker

So, the Professor got the cutest rice cooker and I went over to her house last night for talapia, rice, and steamed asparagus.  I could eat steamed asparagus until it’s coming out my ears.  I don’t know what the deal is.  Don’t you crave things when you’re in need of something they provide?  Is my pee not stinky enough?

Neither here nor there.

No, my question is this: How does the rice cooker know to turn itself off?  It’s just working along–cook, cook, cook–until it decides its done and switches over to ‘warm.’  How does it know?