So last night, I smashed my coffeepot and exploded glass on my face just by holding it a half inch from above the sink and dropping it straight down, like I am magic. I tell my husband at 5 am, when he got home from work, how I've smashed my third coffeepot, and he produces a box with a new carafe from above the cupboard like he is magic. He explains that he himself has smashed about 3 pots and figured we would need it. We then had a "Ha! We don't have to clean our coffeepot, we just smash them" dance party and went to bed. (Well, not really the last part, it just sounded better than "we shuffled off." plus I think the words "coffee, smash, and dance party" sound good together. Clickbait!)
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