Our microwave finally did the final death throes, after giving away slowly to its own demise over the course of months. It started with the stop button no longer working, to not being able to push the numbers at all, hitting the 30 second interval button to get to 10 minutes were some good times.
During the week, Spawn takes care of dinner. When the microwave died, I came to the realization that Spawn has no fucking clue what to do with a vegetable without a microwave. The entire case of frozen brussel sprouts I bought giddily from our local store is now gone…
Me:*grabs entire case of baby brussels and upends into grocery cart*
Spawn: “I’m not eating that”
Me: “Wasn’t planning on sharing.”
These were served to me either still mostly frozen, or Spawn managed to channel Grand, who always cooked like they were fighting of a predatory version of ebola in everything they served, and they were brown and disintegrated.
I hated microwaves growing up since this is the vessel from which the blackened shoe leather Grand would serve me came from. Only ramen and frozen dinners could be safely placed in this thing, especially since the latter tasted like shit no matter what you did with it. I was thirteen before I knew what steak was supposed to taste like.
Of course, I got over my aversion to the magic nuke boxes when I realized that, when used correctly, it was the best way to cook vegetables since they could come out hot, but still crunchy and the same color as when they went in but much quicker than you could ever do on the stove. Yay! I guess this is also the only way I’ve ever shown Spawn how to make them either.
Spawn’s response to my constant look of disappointment with my vegetable matter was to just skip cooking any vegetables. Spawn would love to eat nothing but fried chicken and macaroni and cheese for the rest of their lives. Considering I was recently diagnosed with diabetes, I again pointed out that starch will kill me, especially at the levels they wished to consume it and I NEED more vegetables, loads more. Of course, this makes Spawn feel bad, which makes them angry and we fight like normal parent/kids should.
I have to say, the extended period of being without a microwave is entirely my fault. I refuse to pay a lot for one, since I know they will die within a few years anyway. I don’t want anything that is massive or elaborate either since I refuse to cook anything in it that starts dancing in the land of crazy Grand used to reside. (Who the fuck cooks steak in a microwave, I ask you?)
Then I decided I wanted to look for one that was in some way novel. I have ninja coffee mugs, I have a terrorist teapot, I wanted a weird microwave. The best I could find was Hello Kitty and I’m not a big enough fan to spend a hundred bucks or so on something I would get strictly to annoy Spawn, who hates Hello Kitty and pink. Novel, weird and WTF microwaves are a grossly untapped market.
I spent most of the weeks browsing online, not liking the ratings, the prices, the boringness of it. Even the brown brussel sprout squish pellets have not been enough to convince me to finally break down and just pick something!
But then Spawn goes “I like this jacket, its like the one of yours you keep getting mad at me for stealing, but its blue.” It was $5 online… (thank you Spring). I tack on the cheapest microwave I see with 4 or more stars and hit confirm. I’m pathetic.
“Now take off my jacket.”