So, here’s the deal. It’s not a very exciting deal, but it is amusing to me. Last night the Butcher comes in and says “Oh, the light is off.” Now, I didn’t think anything of it. Who even knows what fucking light is off, right? He’s in the kitchen. I’m half asleep in the living room. And I do my best to shirk my duties as the responsible problem-solver of our duo.
But this morning, I go to have breakfast and I see he means the motherfucking light in the fridge.
Because, apparently, he is missing the part of his common sense that says “Oh, if there’s no light in the fridge, there might not be any electricity in our motherfucking fridge” and so… yes… the fridge is not on.
It’s a new fridge.
Well, as new as we’ve owned the house.
So, my guess is that the whole fuse is out. That seems to me more likely than “fridge mysteriously dies.” Especially since the Butcher was out in the back yard last night, which necessitates flipping the fuse to the shed.
I’m just saying, someone was in the fuse box. And that same someone noticed there’s no light in the fridge.
So, the live-blogging part is that I’m about to go check the fuse box and I will tell you what I find.
Eh, what can I say? It’s my first day of vacation. The thrills are small around here.
Update!!! Yeah, of course, it was the fuse. I flipped it. The fridge is working again. I also went in and sang this dramatic song to the Butcher vaguely along the tune of “Bridge over Troubled Waters.”
When your fridge light doesn’t come on
And there is water all around
It’s not the lightbulb that’s burned out
It is the fu-uu-use and you need to go flip it.
He tried to pawn it off on me like it was my responsibility because he told me the light was out, but I was all “You had like 18 beautiful women over here last night! If you marry one of them and move to her house, you’re going to have to know basic things like “When your fridge light is out, first check to make sure the whole fridge is still working.”