I'm in the kitchen on the phone last night.
RZ walks in, get's a glass, goes over to the icemaker and switches it to "crushed".
The person I'm talking with asked "what was that?". I tell her and agree that it's noisy.
After RZ's glass fills up, she looks at me and calmly asks, "So what, d'she think I was grinding puppies?" Then she rolls her eyes and slyly walks away.
"My God. She didn't fall far from the tree." The voice on the line says.
As I beam with fatherly pride.
