The Reckoning Room: The 3D Printer Actually Works (Despite Me)

The 3D printer—miraculously—works. Like, actually works.

My daughter’s first print was a slide whistle: loud, obnoxious, flawless. The PLA filament that came with it printed perfectly, and it’s honestly refreshing to own something that’s basically me-proof. It’s going to take effort to mess this one up.

Then we tried Halloween ghost cats. The first few were a little rough—the layer transition wasn’t smooth. But I was using PETG filament, which I’ve since learned is meant for printing actual parts, not decorative ghosts. So yeah, that one’s on me.

I later found another version of the same ghost where the eyes are printed separately, which skips the whole transition nightmare. I just printed the one-piece version and let the kids paint the eye area black instead. Problem solved, minimal drama.

The printer itself runs great—it’s a little loud, and it vibrates my very sturdy adjustable table just enough that I could see it eventually shimmying its way out the door. I’ve got my brick smasher parked next to it for moral support and to keep it from wandering off.

Eventually I’ll start designing my own prints and find new ways to break things, but for now I’m just borrowing other people’s brilliance and pressing print. The machine’s reliable, efficient, and a little restless. So, basically, perfect enough.

Update: The 3D Printer Multiplied (Because Apparently I Needed Two)

Everything’s been printing great. Like suspiciously great. A few hiccups here and there, but nothing major—unless you count the time we thought something was jammed inside and nearly took the whole thing apart to “fix” it.

Then I learned something important: you can actually just take the back off to clear it. No heroic surgery required. Good to know for next time I panic.

But in that moment, convinced I’d broken it, I did what any reasonable person would do at two in the morning—I bought another printer. Because fear is temporary, but sales are forever.

Bambu’s site was running 45% off, so I grabbed the exact same printer for under $400. No extras, no fancy add-ons, just the bare machine—since I already own every accessory known to humankind. It hasn’t arrived yet, but that’s fine. I have enough filament to strangle a small army of string puppets while I wait.

The current printer’s still running perfectly. Loud, reliable, and apparently indestructible. I can respect that.

The Ballad of Miraculous Competence

Whistle screams, ghosts appear,

Plastic hums, the end draws near.

Print by print, I test my luck—

Still not broken. What the… duck.

– From the desk of Disorderly Studio, where success is suspicious, and failure’s always warming up.