We have somehow killed yet another microwave

When we were in college, my husband was called down to the campus's Newman House because the microwave was broken and fixing stuff in the house was his job. "Broken" in this particular instance meant that every time you opened the microwave, it turned on.

Let's repeat that for emphasis. You would open the microwave and it would automatically turn on and start to shoot microwaves out at you.

Needless to say, not good.

Well, perhaps inspired by having heard us retell this story so many times, our ...