I have a three-toaster marriage.
Yesterday, I went to Target and bought a white Chefmate two-slice toaster for $7.29. When I brought it home, Kim recognized the shape of the box and was excited. You can only imagine her utter joy when it turned out to be just what she wanted -- a toaster . . . that toasts two slices at a time . . . and for under ten bucks!
We started out our marriage 27 years ago high on the hog with a four-slice toaster. Someone dear to my heart whom I don’t remember right now (I’m sure Kim does) gave it to us at our wedding reception. It was the pride of our kitchen, along with the dandy toaster oven. Toaster number one moved with us ten times and served us well for about ten years until Mindy, our oldest child, decided that it would save time to butter the bread before toasting it, much the same way daylight savings time makes the day longer. After some electrical fireworks, wispy smoke, and a final pop, our four-slice toaster turned into a four-slice bread holder.
Also gone from my memory is where we purchased toaster number two, but I can assure you it was not at Nordstrom’s (do they even sell toasters?). It came on the scene humbly. By then, we had a microwave oven and a Kitchenaid mixer dominating our counter, so this toaster was relegated to a shelf in the kitchen cupboard, there to be retrieved when bread needed toasting. Made back in the days before bagels were invented, or at least before anyone realized that toasters should have slots wide enough to toast bagels, it accommodated just two thin slices. It had several near-death experiences, being dropped on the floor or pinned behind pots and pans. But it kept faithfully churning out the toasted bread, even as its bright white, plastic finish showed signs of discoloration from repeated heating over the years. As long as it worked, we couldn’t replace it, not without violating the family rule of using it up and wearing it out before even thinking of a newer model.
A few weeks ago, toaster number two (maybe we should start naming them -- “toaster number two” sounds so impersonal) started toasting unevenly. And finally, early this week, it got to the point where Kim felt it necessary to put the poor toaster down . . . in the trash can, that is. Shocked children reported to me that the toaster was in the kitchen trash bin, so I knew the end had come. This toaster had outlived our dog (RIP Esau), four cars, my hairline, and even the high-and-mighty Kitchenaid mixer. Thus it was only appropriate that we took a moment to mourn the loss of our friend, a short moment -- and the smile on Kim’s face was about reliving the memories.
After two toasterless days, I made a dash to Target and surveyed the toaster scene. They had big toasters. They had shiny toasters. They had toasters lined up on the shelf to show off their advantages, costing anywhere from 25 dollars to 50 dollars. But I had to ask myself, "Does a 25-dollar toaster, much less a 50-dollar toaster, really belong in my kitchen?" -- I mean, it’s not getting counter space. And then in despair I bowed my head. “There is no piece on sale,” I said. But as often happens, when we cast our eyes down in humility, good things happen. There it was, on the bottom shelf. A happy little Chefmate white plastic toaster, with bagel-size slots! It took me all of two seconds to grab that little puppy and skipped off happily to the checkout stand.
This morning I tried it on Bradford’s Pop Tart, and it worked like a charm. In fact, I think it did a 50-dollar-toaster job of toasting that Pop Tart.
Having celebrated our third toaster, Kim and I look forward to many toasters to come. But they must be humble, and they must be loyal. For that’s how toasters (and marriages) last so long.
P.S. Did you know that, when you use a credit card for a purchase under ten bucks, they don’t even ask for a signature? Yep, I used my Visa card. Using a credit card, I can return it or get a refund if it is defective, or so I’m told. You can never be too careful, and I wanted to protect my investment.
