RIP Toaster

I have a toaster. It's beautiful and shiny. I got it for Christmas not too long ago. I didn't feel like I deserved it. Let me explain why.

We didn't have a toaster for a long time.
I threw it down the stairs.
I haven't thought about the toaster memory for many months. I used to think about it every time I looked at my new beautiful toaster. But I don't any more. Now I just think about how delicious my sugar coated toast will taste.

I remember that I was pregnant and on bed rest. I remember being stressed, tired, in pain, and alone. I also remember wanting some toast. Our toaster was a bit handicapped. Over the previous couple of weeks the boys had, slot by slot, melted toys in them.
Now there was only one slot to cook from.
Only one slot that worked.
In went the bread, and down went the lever. Then I smelled it. Burning. Melting.
A Crayon!
Now I distinctly remember picking up the toaster and throwing it down the stairs.
Yes, I threw it!
Then I cried.

Since I was on bed rest and under strict doctors orders (and shouldn't have been making toast in the first place), I definitely was not supposed to go up or down stairs. Stairs were illegal for me, but I needed to clean up before the kids got home. I cried some more as I made my way slowly and painfully down the stairs. The tears came because my body hurt, because I was frustrated with my kids, but mostly because I couldn't believe what I had done. I was so disappointed in myself.

Once down the stairs, I found the toaster in pieces. Carefully I gathered the pieces up in my extra roomy maternity shirt and made my way back up the stairs. Finally at the top, I opened the garage door and dumped the contents of my shirt onto the garage floor and closed the door.

When the kids found out, they cried too. How could they live without toast? I had a lot of apologizing to do, to everyone.

A couple days later, Chad asked where the toaster was. I pointed to the garage.

More apologizing.

Chad does a good job at making me feel better. He now says this story is one of the things that makes him love me more. I think he uses the word "endearing" when he talks about it.

I am not sure why.

We went without toast for a long time.

So you can see why opening up a beautiful toaster at Christmas was hard. Did I deserve it? No, but I really do love toast. Especially cinnamon toast.






One more thing to mention....

the kids have never put anything but bread in the toaster since.