The following items broke or otherwise shed their inanimate coils in the past seven days:
Makita Cordless Drill. I’m not sure what about this death hurt more: That it thwarted the plans Thing 2 and I to bond over power tools by making bird feeders out of empty seltzer bottles or that My Love had given me the drill as my “bachelor party” gift. Read what you will into that last bit.
Floodlight over garage door. Meh. An $8 bulb. Not a biggie. Especially considering the next thing to go was …
The automatic garage door opener. Not the clicker in the car, mind you. The actual thing that raises and lowers the door. You’d be mistaken if you thought the door being stuck in the closed position would actually prevent money from flying out through it.
Golf pull cart. Since Santa and his minions, you know -- the ones who live under my roof, all failed to bring me the one gift I actually had on my list, I purchased my own online. Alloy mag wheels. All-weather scorecard holder. Umbrella holder. Adult beverage holder. Oh. Oh. Oh. That’s what I’m talking about. After assembling it, I tested the foot brake – an important feature lest your cart roll down hill and force you to exert extraordinary effort to retrieve said adult beverage – and there was this horrible crack like biting into a chicken bone and snapping through the marrow. Or like the sound my knees make when I squat down to look under the sink for a nonexistent last roll of toilet paper.
I called the toll-free number of the Canadian company that makes the cart (honestly, I didn’t even know Canadians played golf but I guess that explains why we when you put your woods back in the bag you cover them with toques, eh?). It was disconnected.
Remote control. Not any remote control, but the remote control to the TV in the family room. With the 46-inch flat screen. And the satellite TV. And the TiVo. … I need a moment. … And a tissue.
And, the one you’ve all been waiting for <drumroll> …
Wood slat on my bed frame.
Too much bouncy bouncy. Or too many Ho Hos. Either way, my fat ass stakes claim.
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My Uncool Past
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