“Hey, the ice machine isn’t working anymore. I tried several times to unjam it, but I don’t think there are any chunks of ice that are keeping it from dispensing. I think it’s broken,” I said with a sigh as Scott walked in from work this evening.
And I really had “tried” in that I had jostled the ice drawer back and forth with great force several times, and then ran my hand through it, searching for… I didn’t know… a large chunk of ice that was too big to pass through the hole? No dice.
Scott pulled it out of the freezer, refusing to accept my hypothesis that the ice dispenser was suddenly out of commission based on my findings. He emptied the ice into the sink as I stood there with my empty glass.
“Wait!” I shouted, “Ugh. I wanted some ice.”
“Well, I don’t know if you want this ice,” he replied. Then he added “So, that’s what the white stuff in my water was last night,” as he handed the drawer back to me.
“Ohhhhhh…nah, I’m good. Lukewarm water, it is.”