"Bernice! The microwave won't work!" shouted Fred. Bernice replied in equal fervor, "try plugging it in!" "Oh...thanks," he replied. It had started out as a normal day, with Fred making a mistake and his wife fixing it. The only thing he didn't know was that not everything is meant to be fixed.
Later that day...
"Bernice, the microwave is definitely broken this time!" Fred yelled to his wife. "Fred, how many times do I have to remind you to plug it in?" she answered. "It is plugged in," he told her as she walked into the room. Bernice took the plated of food from Fred's hands, put it in the microvave, and pushed start. It worked. "See," she said, "now was that so hard?" Fred didn't look at her; he was busy staring at the microwave. He could have sworn the little screen had winked at him.
Two months later...
"Bernice, I just don't get it! I haven't been able to elicit a response from this blasted microwave in the past two months!" Fred yelled with a petulant expression on his face. Bernice slammed the book she was reading on the table. "I'm done!" she shouted at Fred. "I am fed up with hand-feeding you! I've done it for the past ten years, and I won't do it anymore!" She continued in a vitriolic tone, "I'm leaving. Goodness only knows what you'll do without me!" Bernice stormed out of the kitchen. Fred wasn't sure, but he thought he saw the microwave flash an unctuous grin in his direction.