The fridge guy came right at nine this morning. I was on the way out to take Hank to school, but I left him settled on the floor with a screwdriver.
Then I went to tennis and practiced with my partner for Thursday's match. She is a sweet girl and this will be her first match ever. She is counting on me to guide her. We are in trouble.
Then I came home, half expecting to find the fridge dude still crouched in the kitchen. The coast was clear and the fridge was humming busily. Matt told me that it took the guy all of twenty minutes to diagnose and fix a burned out master board. Or was it mother board? I don't know but it cost $350.
Matt told me that number and I said, "Oh, that's a relief."
He goes, "Are you kidding? I thought that was high. It's a big part of the cost of a new fridge."
Is he not adorable?
Bless him! How he thinks that $350 would go a long way toward a new fridge? I love that guy.
My mom called to check on the fridge and me and I told her, "Matt said the funniest thing! The funniest thing about $350!" We both enjoyed it.
It's that thing of when a man has no idea what something costs but he sure as hell knows what it should cost, you know? Like, in the price and fee schedule contained in his mind. So, pro tip: The way this shakes out is that, if your husband asks you how much a new jacket or duvet cover that you bought cost, you can feel safe in just taking a "1" off the front because then the digits you tell him will accord with his mental money schema. And you don't want to shatter his schema.
Oh Lucy! Oh Ricky!
So as of this moment we are cooling properly, and our food is slowly transitioning back above stairs. I bet that fridge will chug along another several years before it gives us any trouble. I hope the same for all of us. 'Night!