Don't cry over spilled milk, unless the glass broke when you spilled it

Why is it that every time I decide to steal a moment to quench my day-long thirst with an ice cold glass of water that one of the following happens:

1. not one single ice cube is ready in the freezer

2. as I go to sit down in my comfy chair, I tilt the glass just far enough that the ice cold liquid goes streaming down my shirt

3. I place it on the counter for one second too long, just long enough for my little one to stretch her chubby little fingers far enough to grasp the glass and send it flying to it's demise, shattered on my kitchen floor