After returning home one Saturday afternoon:
Brad: Bad news, I think we need a new washing machine.
Me: What? Why?
Brad: I was sitting here watching TV, eating a sandwich when it started making a terrible noise. I jumped up and ran to turn it off. It had moved several feet from the wall. It still works, but it's really loud.
Me: Isn't that thing less than two years old?
Brad: Yes. But it gets worse.
Brad: Phoebe ate my sandwich.