Huh! Seems like only yesterday that I was astonished by Farmer H's inability to follow directions. Today, he might just have crossed that last 'T' in incompetent.
Frig has been having issues. He's been clogged. Unable to shoot out ice cubes. His plumbing is out of whack. At first, Farmer H accused me of fabricating Frig's constipation. After four days, two ice droppings, and a consultation with world-renowned pioneer in the field of ice-maker transplants, Dr. Chris...Farmer H announced that he did not feel qualified to router out Frig's circulatory system, but would attempt another transplant.
Farmer H left for Lowe's while The Pony and I were traipsing through The Devil's Playground. It was a welcome respite from dodging irate drivers who took offense to crosswalk protocol. Thank the Gummi Mary, I held The Pony back to let one car go by. A car of young men shouting, "Get across the road already!" to a white-bearded man in jeans, work boots, and a denim shirt. I'm sure they would have run him down, if not for the car in front of them honoring the crosswalk code. No cars were near as we exited. Halfway across the striped lines, a red sedan flew past the stop sign marking the crosswalk zone. It cut in front of us, nearly trimming The Pony's hoofs and my toenails, and roared up the row where we were parked. A teenage girl sat in the back seat, looking forlorn and embarrassed. It probably did not help her self-esteem to hear me holler, "Whatever happened to stopping at the crosswalk?" as they gassed their gas hog into our de-motorized zone.
Farmer H called us on the way back to the Mansion. He wanted to know what brand of refrigerator we have. Um. FRIGIDAIRE! How can he not know how Frig got his name? Then he called back and asked for the model number. Silly me. How dare I not remember it, like a social security number for my silver buddy Frig. As soon as we carried in the groceries, The Pony texted Frig's vital statistics to Farmer H.
You would think a man going to buy a replacement ice-maker might make sure he knew what kind of ice-maker he was going to replace. Wouldn't you?