I finally used that espresso machine
Well, I didn't get home by 7:00. However, first thing when I did get home was to start using that espresso maker. I ripped off that plastic cover and right away, that espresso maker new that I meant business. Now we'll find out who is the boss, I thought to myself. So, first cup of espresso no problem. Milk foamer? Different story. Determined to rebel and undermine until the end, the espresso maker milk foamer feature would not work. After fiddling with this for about an hour, I decide that espresso alone is fine. I sit down and enjoy it.
My husband comes home and he is also excited that I am using the espresso maker.
"Is it difficult?" he asks. No problem, I assure him. I make him another cup of espresso and apologize for lack of foamy milk for his non-latte. He is a little puzzled but doesn't say anything until he realizes that the machine feature doesn't work. Now he is choked. He decides he is going to figure it out. But he doesn't. We are resigned to returning the machine.
But I have won the espresso battle and decide to make one more cup of espresso. The machine has other ideas in mind. I put the coffee thing in, flip the switch and I get and explosion! Pressure built up, so that the coffee and the filter come flying out of the machine breaking my favorite cup, splattering hot coffee and grinds all over appliances, walls and counter tops. The metal filter is lying inches away from my feet.
My heart starts pounding. This machine decided to attack me! Had I had my face closer to the machine as I did last time, I would have been severely injured. I take the espresso I made for my husband into the next room, leaving the mess behind and drink his espresso shaking from adrenaline. I tell him that the machine exploded and he gets upset about wasting money on the machine. I silently consider not ever drinking cofee again.
I wait a bit, go into the kitchen, clean it up and get everything all tidy. My husband later decides that now he is going to fix the machine. I tell him to stand behind something in case it explodes again. This earns me a serious look of disdain. He is in earnest now, because he actually read the instructions. He usually never does this. He takes it all apart, making the hugest noise because the machine is still hot and some screw won't turn that he has decided needs to be removed in order to fix the machine. I tell him not to worry about it but to no avail. There is something at stake here, and HE is not going to let some espresso machine beat him.
I wake up the next morning to the sound of latte being made. He got the screw undone, figured out how to get the milk foamer steam thing to work. Apparantly, you have to push the button REALLY hard, not just hard. This also gets me a look as my husband decides how it is possible not to push a button hard enough. (This concept underscores a fundamental difference between the two of us).
So when all is said and done. My husband tamed the wily espresso machine so that even I can make latte at home without fear of injury.