Strange things are afoot in the TC house. The washing machine doesn't know when to stop filling, so it floods the laundry room. The oven has been making crackling noises and emitting white smoke (and that's before I put the food in).
Here's what I think. I think if God spoke to men through donkeys and burning bushes, He can darn sure speak to us through appliances. And that's what I told Rock 'n' Roll Daddy.
I said that I think God is sending us messages to leave Egypt (i.e., our money-pit of a house), and the sooner the better, because it's gonna be destroyed by fire or flood or some other disasterous plague-ish thing. He asked me how much caffeine I'd had that morning. I reminded him that a lot of the appliances in our house are from the Roosevelt administration. He asked me what that had to do with anything, so I told him that it's common knowledge that God didn't like FDR on account of his starting that communist Social Security program and all. He asked was I ready to wander in the wilderness (i.e., our back pasture) for 40 years, cooking over a campstove. I said - and I only raised my voice a little at this point - that that sounded good to me, as long as he would be content with eating manna (i.e., Beanie Weanies from a can) every day. Then one of the dogs urped up something that looked like a catfish in a mitten, so that was the end of that discussion. Personally, I think the catfish was another sign from God, but right then wasn't a good time to say that to Laban (i.e., Rock 'n' Roll Daddy).
All I know is this: if our copier starts randomly spitting out pictures of frogs or locusts, buddyroe, I am getting the heck out of Dodge.