Me: “You need to put some more liquid in that smoothy smoothie mix. Can you smell the blender? It’s too thick for the blades to move.”
Her: “Shut up. I make these all the time. You don’t know what you’re doing.”
Me: “All I’m saying is that you need more liquid in there.”
[takes a spoon and scoops a healthy dollop, holding it up]
“Look, it’s too thick. You’re going to burn out the motor. It smells like slot cars in here.”
Her: “Slot cars? What the hell is that?”
Me: …
Her: “I know what I’m doing. Leave.”
Me: “Do you have a contingency plan for what you’ll do when the blender is on fire?”
Her: [rolls eyes]
Me: “Come get me calmly when it blows up.” [leaves kitchen]
Time passes. Cursing from kitchen. Smells of burning make their way through the house. More cursing. Back door opens and closes. I am silent.
Her: “Hey the smoothies are ready.”
Me: “Ok, be right there.” [enters kitchen to find blender is gone]
“Where’s the blender? What happened? It smells like ass in here.”
Her: “Whut?”
“…”
Me: “Where did you put the blender? Is it close to anything flammable?”
Her: “…” [blinks repeatedly]
Me: “You are more stubborn than an ox. A Mormon pioneer ox.”
* * *
This morning I find this out back:
click image to see larger version
She’s holding her ground despite being wrong. I can fix some things, but I can’t fix stubborn.