Small appliances

The business of life is busy - ness. With every passing day, I am realizing just how much of what I do is 'because' and for no other earthly reason. Take laundry, for instance. I know it needs to be done, but it is just so much busy work. Grrrr!

I ironed a basket of clothes yesterday with the new iron my sweet hubby brought me. It replaces the iron that managed to fall onto the porcelain tile and end up the loser in the battle. And no, the tile didn't get a scratch. Go figure.

The survival rate of small appliances in our home is horrible. Over the course of our marriage, we have collectively or individually managed to murder 2 microwaves (we are working on killing the third one - it now only displays the readout of time, minutes to cook and countdown when IT feels like doing so), several blenders, an assortment of various sized crock pots, 3 toasters that have suffered horrible deaths and a couple of table top fryers.

My parents were given a silver Sunbeam toaster when they got married. Although it did require a brand new cord and plug several years ago, this modern miracle of toasting technology has lasted for forty-seven years to this point.

That's not a typo. You DID read right. 47 years of toasting perfection.

All I can figure is that the appliance fairies like my parents better than they do us.

Either that or we are just the kind of people who are drawn like moths to the bug zapper towards appliances that secretly want to commit hari-kari but lack the motivation to go it alone. They creep unbeknownst to us towards the edge of the counter knowing that one careless moment later that there demise will be complete and we will be the ones suffering the guilt and anguish at their loss.

Like the simpletons we are, we simply go out at the next available opportunity when both time and money meet in the middle to purchase a serial replacement in our arsenal of disposable appliances.

They smile when they see us coming and push the most frail member of the herd to the front of the display, knowing that we will indeed foolishly plunk good money down and take home the weak link.

Even now, counter top appliances are laughing at me.

I can hear them because, frankly, they are in league one with another.

Just the other day, I caught them holding a straw poll to decide who should go next. I have the sneaking suspicion that my George Foreman grill has been voted off the counter by the mean spirited waffle iron and sandwich maker that seldom sees any use.

Perhaps I should capitulate to their demands and create an equality of counter space and plugs where all appliances can have their own real estate. No more sharing and jostling for counter position. Just equality and freedom for every single small appliance!

A constitution of appliance use and rights could be drafted. A convention of epic proportion could best decide how to hook up to the power grid to ensure maximum shelf life for each new member of the family of convenience.

While the counter top citizens may be rejoicing for the moment, I have to keep reminding them that they are powerless (no pun intended) unless I plug them IN. Just at the point where a riot becomes a possibility as the appliances begging to contemplate better power settings and more individual freedom when it comes to what food they are willing to prepare for me, they are humbled into momentary submission at that one blinding fact.

I can and will take away their source of power and leave them groveling in their crumbs begging to be allowed "just one little hit" on the outlet.

I have to leave now and go shopping.

Thus far, the resident canine hasn't succumbed to their delicate bribery and plugged them in. But I know it is only a matter of time before the can opener figures out how to use itself and bribe her with a can of breast meat chicken.

Stay strong, girl!

Resist the pull of the appliances!

You can be Mommy's good little doggie and I'll bring you a treat.

And as for you conspiring appliances, if YOU are good, I'll plug you in later today.