Caleb and his wife Calin argued constantly and sometimes their fights became violent. Add a waffle iron to the mix and you’re just asking for trouble. Ask the couple’s California Health Insurance agent.
Waffle Iron Day, celebrated on the 13th of March, held special significance for Caleb, 42, if not also for his wife Calin, 39. It was on that national holiday when the Merced couple decided to “really do up breakfast” as Caleb put it. The original menu that morning was deceptively simple. “Let’s just have bacon, eggs and whole wheat toast,” Calin suggested.
Unfortunately, Caleb wasn’t satisfied. He wanted waffles. “Today is Waffle Iron Day.” Caleb said, beginning to whine, “Did you know that National Waffle Iron Day has been a tradition in my family for more than a century?”
“I doubt it,” replied Calin, who was always willing to speak or even shout her mind, “It hasn’t been a holiday that long.”
“It has too,” Caleb shrieked, and he was close to tears, “My grandfather told us the whole story about how it came to be a national holiday on March 13th.”
“Whatever,” Calin said, already disgusted.
Caleb removed the waffle iron from the convenient cabinet where it’d been stored, and put it within Calin’s easy reach.
“I want strawberries and blueberries and yams in my waffles,” Caleb said in a certifiably annoying tone.
“You want yams?” Calin screamed, “I’m allergic to yams! You knew that, too!”
Their argument escalated enough so that what happened next was predictable. Calin picked up the waffle iron, and conked her husband right on the noggin, knocking him cold.
She picked up the phone and called their California Health Insurance agent, who was also the tempestuous couple’s friend. “Caleb’s out cold this time,” Calin cried, “I hit him with a waffle iron.”
“Oh that’s right, today’s National Waffle Iron Day again, isn’t it?” the agent asked. “Don’t worry, you’re covered. But better call an ambulance.”
Calin did just that, and a few minutes later, all the neighbors heard the siren. Caleb was still unconscious when he was carried into the ambulance.
“She really must have conked him good,” remarked Mrs. Kravitz, a nosy neighbor.
“What do you expect?” said Mr. Kravitz, “Some people can’t be trusted with a waffle iron.”