Crack!

"What the hell was that?" Homer looked up. Ada entwined her arm with Homer's as they both ran down to the living room.

"It came from the microwave..." Ada turned her husband's head to the kitchen countertop.

"Did you read the manual? What did it say to not heat?" asked Homer.

"I didn't," confessed Ada, "you're supposed to be the techno man of the house!"

They slowly walked to the kitchen. There didn't seem to be any broken glass on the ground, and the front of the microwave seemed to remain intact. "Careful," Homer cautioned anyway.

The front of the microwave looked like someone had spilled paint on it. Ada opened it. "Eek!" she exclaimed and moved to shut it as soon as she saw the inside.

"What did you do, Ada?" Homer spun her around to face him.

"I tried to put three eggs in the microwave to heat them up..."

"It's OK," forgave Homer, "we all need to learn. But we're going to have to clean this up. Watch for eggshells." He planted a kiss on her cheek. "You think it would be OK to wash it once we unplug this?"

"There's nothing washing it will do that scrubbing it real hard with a wet rag won't."

"Fair point."

It took an hour to restore the microwave into a reasonably presentable state. But Homer and Ada would have gladly done this with each other if it had needed ten years. The mere sight of the other's face was enough to transmit the expression it held onto their own for the rest of the day.

"I got a poem for this, Homer," Ada's expression suddenly turned serious, "listen or I won't love you anymore."

"Damn, you're mean," Homer smiled, "let's hear it."

"An idiot, an oven, and a fool
"Forgot what they learned in school
"They heated some eggs
"And it broke up their legs
"'Cause they're just as smart as a tool."

"Awesome," commented Homer, "we should make this a text file."

"Are they allowed?"

"Nope. But if it was--"

Homer was interrupted by a kiss from Ada.