Honestly, in this hot weather, with the central air turned off because we can’t afford it, and the ceiling fans raising a little bit of muggy breeze, much like Rick’s Café Américain in August, is it too much to ask that when I reach into the freezer for a tray of ice cubes, that it be full of ice cubes, and not half-full, or even completely empty? I’m not a violent person, but an empty ice cube tray when it’s a hundred degrees outside and 99 degrees in this house, really makes me angry.

We do have an ice maker in the freezer but it hasn’t worked since that fateful morning a few years ago when we awoke to ankle-deep water in the kitchen and Niagara Falls in the family room below. The plastic water pipe had burst in the night, and we’ve never had it repaired. At first, we could never remember its existence until we wanted some ice, and then we couldn’t afford that, either.

Hence the three Rubbermaid ice trays which I empty and refill at least twice daily, and which I grumpily and very bitchily DEMAND be full every single time I want ice.

Last night, I wanted ice and the tray was half full/half empty (pick one; I don’t want to offend either optimist or pessimist; you all know how thoroughly PC I always boast of being) (Yeah, right; like I care about being PC. . . .) (Bite me.) (Sorry, being iceless makes me mean.)

So my question is, who did it? I want names. WHO DID IT?

I want the names of the guilty! I want them NOW!

Oh, wait. I think it was me. The phone rang as I was getting some ice last night and, um, I got busy and, um. . . . oh poop.

Never mind.