When you come to our house, you can have a drink, but you won't get icecubes.
We used to have icecubes. Not the big kind that slam up against your teeth when you take a sip. No, we had polite little icecubes, that did their beverage-cooling duties without a lot of fanfare. People commented on our icecubes.
Seriously - they really did.
"Oh, those little things?" we'd say, secretly pleased and proud. "The trays came with the fridge - I guess they ARE superior ice cubes, aren't they? We never really noticed...."
But a few years ago, mid-move, that fridge went somewhere else, and so did the trays.
And it's never been the same since.
It's actually really difficult to FIND ice cube trays. Maybe they come with fridges everywhere, so no one buys them separately. I don't know. I do know it's really been annoying Spike. Me, I don't care so much - I'm mostly a coffee-drinker.
So a couple of months ago, when he found some spiffy little trays in cool colours, he picked up a few. We eagerly looked forward to the vast improvement they would create in our lives. The special thing about these trays was not just that they created small cubes, and not just that the trays were all lime and orange coloured - it was that they had FLEXIBLE BOTTOMS.
(Probably some of you have flexible bottoms too, but we're not talking about that.)
The picture showed these little frozen bits of delight just popping right out of the tray, as a well-manicured thumb pressed gently from behind. Much better than the upper-body strength required to twist and crack those regular trays that ordinary folks have.
Well.
We filled them. Froze them. And then one day, I decided I would like to have a little unpretentious icecube in my iced tea. So I pulled it out, and gently applied my thumb to its flexible bottom. Nothing happened. I gave the tray a little tap, and tried again. Nothing. Looked at it for awhile. Tried other flexible bottoms, and other fingers. Twisted the tray with both hands, in the old-fashioned way. Being flexible, it happily bent nearly in half without dislodging a single cube. I smashed it on the counter, over and over again.
Nothing. Nada. Zip.
I hate those ice cube trays.
Spike is more patient than me. He demonstrated how to run warm water in just the right place, and then he showed me how his big, muscular thumb could get the cubes out without any trouble. I said I didn't want ice if it took that much work. Then I went in a corner and sulked. Then I came out of the corner, and I've just been ignoring the ice cubes since then. We don't speak about them.
Last night, Spike started slamming the ice cube tray against the counter in frustration. He looked up at me in defeat. "I hate these trays," he said.
"Oh good," I said. "Now that we're in agreement, can I blog about it?"
He rolled his eyes, which I took to mean that he thought it would be a wonderful idea.
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By the way - we're in the middle of a move at work - so if I don't post as often as usual over the next couple of weeks, don't abandon me, OK? I'll be back! I promise!!
