It is rare that one can find a truly heartwarming story about icemakers.

When we were first married, my husband and I lived in a renovated old high-rise in Virginia. All of the new appliances were specified as "builder-grade," which indicates that builders on the whole must be extremely content with minimal features in their home appliances. The dishwasher had two cycles: on and off. The refrigerator had only two or three gradations on its dials, and the freezer had no icemaker. I'd go on about the substandard washer and dryer, but the fact is, we had to take an elevator to a bank of laundry dinosaurs on the fourth floor, which were evidently builder-grade in 1955.

Being an American who likes her beverages frosty, I guess I complained a lot whenever the ice trays I had put in the freezer in the morning weren't frozen solid at the end of the day. I also complained whenever I had forgotten to make ice, which was more frequently the case.

"There's no ice!" I would exclaim nightly, in a repetitive, pointless and irritating manner. And then I would complain about my lukewarm beverages.

So when my birthday rolled around, my husband installed an icemaker in our freezer as a surprise.

This was actually an appropriate, meaningful gift that took thought and time. But in the world I inhabited in my 20s, I expected the kind of generic girly gift that could be given to any random woman, anytime. When, in fact, the icemaker had my name all over it.

So you could say I was a little chilly to my new spouse for a week or so, until I came to my senses and thawed. And now I have a weirdly sentimental feeling about icemakers. I once welled up when I saw a commercial for a GE Monogram high-capacity stainless-steel model.

Since that time, we've always purchased refrigerators with built-in icemakers because, to me, nothing says love like a full bin of identical half-moon ice cubes. About three years ago, however, our icemaker broke in our home's new refrigerator — and this one's not builder-grade, as evidenced by the fact that you can get both ice and water without even opening its doors. At first, my husband was able to repair the icemaker, but over time, it became more and more temperamental, until it finally demanded professional attention.

But when you own a fancier appliance, it demands a fancier grade of repair person. So you must first do the following calculation that you will recall from Algebra II GT, illustrating the Icemaker Principle:

Age of Refrigerator/Non-refundable Cost of Repair Visit + Average Price of New Ice Maker/Anyone's Guess About How Long This One Will Last - (# of children in household) (average thermostat setting in summer) = "n."

Once you have solved for "n," you will go out and buy a huge bag of ice, and do that every week for the next three years, until your spouse suggests maybe it's time to get some ice trays.

Sadly, we live in a suburban area where people not only have icemakers, they have separate commercial-grade movie-house icemakers in their home theaters. So there are no ice trays to be found in a 10-mile radius.

Fortunately, I now work in Baltimore, where people evidently still enjoy the old-fashioned, romantic activity of making ice. So I stopped at a dollar store on my way home one night and picked up a few trays. I still seem to forget to make ice in the morning before work, though.

But today is Father's Day. And it occurs to me that nothing says hot desire like a brand new icemaker, installed.