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Husand rang me to report that he’d picked up the slow cooker I bought for $5.50 from TradeMe. Only used once!

I told myself the big grin plastered across my face was an expression of the customary joy I feel when conversing with Husband, rather than excitement about my new purchase almost within my clutching grasp.

“But it has a big crack in the lid,” said Andrew. “Did you know about that?”

“No! The listing never- there was no mention of cracks. She said it had been used once (although there was nothing about what for). And she had 100% positive feedback. Aw, this SUCKS! $5.50 for a broken slow cooker! What a crock!”

“Yes. I told her she was a timewaster and you’d give her a red face and then I set the dog on her.”

“Wait- wait a moment. You’re having me on, aren’t you?”


This time I couldn’t lie to myself: the relief I felt was because my slow cooker was uncracked and almost within my clutching grasp.


Comments on: "Middle age gets another finger on the stranglehold" (4)

  1. MarkJ said:

    I love this post, especially because I was always too scared to buy a slow cooker. I really didnt feel old enough to have one.

    Now you’ve got one – I might man up and buy one.

    Maybe πŸ™‚

  2. JohnP said:

    Now hang on a minute, slow cookers cook meat …

  3. deadlyjelly said:

    . . . and Husband eats meat, and in this particular instance the only reasonable expression of my love appeared to be a slow-cooker. See?

    MarkJ – oh, I don’t think you need to worry, you’re DEFINITELY old enough for a slow cooker πŸ˜€


  4. MarkJ said:

    Am old does not always equal feel old πŸ™‚

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