Large items like, the microwave, coffee maker, etc. that I didn't bring with me, Brandon loaded in his truck to haul across country. If we had something (whatever that may be) and it prevented us from buying a new one, Brandon put it in the truck; god love him :)
Our second night in the new apartment we were having left-over chicken and wanted some baked beans. Learning we didn't even have a can opener, I introduced myself to our downstairs neighbors and borrowed one. We opened the beans, placed them in a bowl, and proceeded to heat them in the microwave. You may ask why we didn't heat them on the stove -- no pots! Of course.....
After a few minutes, Brandon checked the beans. Ice cold. So he put them back in the microwave for another few minutes. Ice cold. Annoyed, he threw them in for an 8 minute setting. Ice cold. "Hey Di, I think the microwave is broken!"
We ate dinner, without the beans, and after, I called mom. The conversation went like this:
"Hey Mom"
"Hey Di"
" So, our microwave doesn't work, isn't that weird."
"OH. Is that the one that was broken???"
Yep. My question is: why was it sitting in Grandma Juanita's basement with my name on the box???
I bought new pots and pans the next day - we got a microwave the next weekend. Here's our new WORKING microwave. Love you, Mom!
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