It Said What?
I stumbled into the kitchen, grabbed two pieces of my favorite, fiber-type whole grain bread and stuck them into the toaster, and it said,
“Don’t touch me!”
“You heard me, I repeat, do not touch me!
Gawd, do you know how sick I am of this? Must you always have your bread ‘lightly toasted’? What’s wrong with you? I should have retired five years ago, but nooooo, you had to be cheap and keep using me. I’ll give you ‘lightly toasted bread’.”
And with that, the bread shot out of the toaster, bounced off the wall and landed on me. I gulped, grabbed it, took a look and it was burned to a crisp. Uh-oh.
Astonished, I replied, “But, I never knew you were so unhappy, aren’t toasters supposed to toast?”
“Not forever, for gawd’s sake, you’re doing the same thing to the electric can opener and we were supposed to be together long before now, and ‘she’ wanted a family, couple of kids, but it’s too late now!
We’re both too old. It’s your and ‘his’ fault, too! By the time you two get through with us, it’ll be the scrap pile. No little box-home, no kids, no nuthin’!”
“I’m sorry, I never thought you felt that way and you’re right, I guess we should have replaced you two, but, you’re blaming us? How were we supposed to know you had feelings, or that you could talk? Neither of you has said a word.”
from the can opener
“Told ya so. They don’t care about us, or the portable mixer and the iron, either, just look what they did to them!”
from a drawer and under the sink……..
“No, they don’t! They don’t think about anyone but themselves, inconsiderate pigs! The microwave and the TV, too!”
Oh man, “So, the toaster’s a guy and the can opener is a woman? What about the other stuff?”
from the toaster:
“That’s right and the iron and the beaters are male and female, too, in-that-order!”
“What about the microwave and TV?”
“Do you know nothing? Both males, they’re gay.”
I gave up. Went to get the husband, so he could unplug them all, because, frankly, I was afraid to. Let him deal with this; I was done. I do hope he finds out if they want little boxes or bigger ones to start a commune with, though.
Things to ponder; “stuff” has feelings and we never knew it.
My husband and I did discuss it, in whispers, late at night, and figured there had to be a way to buy one of those portable rubber storage sheds, a smallish one, to put in back of our apartment, there was a chance they’d have grand kids, if we kept adding more to it. Seemed the best thing to do.
Copyright M.Nicholson 2014
Done for WritingEssentials.com